


Torture Clint Barton Meme

by asamandra



Series: Prompt lists [2]
Category: Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Emotional Abuse, F/M, M/M, Non-Related Chapters, Slavery, Torture, Violence, prompt list
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-03-18 16:26:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 50
Words: 32,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13685403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asamandra/pseuds/asamandra
Summary: A collection of non-related mini-fics around my favorite Avenger Clint Barton, this time not so nice.Sentence meme (Torture my character version)





	1. “I never loved you.” - Clint Barton/Thor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [midghtwishesunheard](http://midghtwishesunheard.tumblr.com/) requested:  
>  “I never loved you.” ThunderHawk? I don’t think I’ve seen them for this prompt list yet :D

Clint was gone for four weeks. He was sent on a mission in Japan and after three days the contact with him broke off. No one knew where he was. Natasha followed him but she only found his bow and a few drops of blood in a safe house. But Clint was gone. Thor asked Heimdall but the guardian couldn’t see him and that was more than worrying.

Four weeks with no contact whatsoever. And then, from one day to the next, he was back. Tony got a call from the cops that they found someone in a dumpster somewhere in Hell’s kitchen. They sent a photo and it was definitely Clint. No one knew how he came back to the US, no one knew how he came to New York and no one knew how he landed in a dumpster but a blind lawyer found him there and no one knew how that guy managed that because he was blind. 

Thor didn’t wait, he ran out onto the balcony, whirled his hammer and he was gone. Only a few seconds later he landed in front of the hospital they had brought him to and entered the building. All the people on their way hurried out of his way or stared at him in awe. 

“Clinton Barton,” he said to the woman at the reception. “Where can I find him?” 

“And you are…” she asked slowly but Thor only raised a brow. The woman nodded. 

“I am his partner,” he said. “Can I see him?” 

“Uhm… Mr. Thor,” she said, “uhm… you should speak to the doctor first.” 

Thor nodded and waited. 

“Uhm… I’ll call him.” She grabbed the receiver, dialed and talked a few seconds. “The doctor will come immediately.” 

Thor looked around, saw a few chairs in the corridor and sat down. People stared at him but in full armor and with Mjölnir at his side no one dared to talk to him. A small woman in a white coat came over to him. 

“Mr… uhm… Thor,” she started. When he nodded and rose - she was way smaller than him and had to move her head to look at him - she said, “Mr. Barton is…” she stopped, pursed her lips and then shook her head. “It’s better you see for yourself.” 

He followed her to the elevator and she brought him to Clint’s room, where he lay in a hospital bed, wearing a hospital gown… and his hands and feet were tied with thick leather cuffs. He was awake and struggled against the ties.

“What is that supposed to mean?” he turned to the doctor and glared at her. 

“He’s… he injured himself and tried to flee… we had to secure him,” she said. “We have no idea what happened to him but it was bad, really bad.” Thor didn’t ask for permission, he just opened the door and entered the room.

“Clint,” he said warily and the man in the bed stilled for a moment. 

“Are you here to release me?” He snapped. His eyes were cold and… and weird. 

“I am here to bring you back home,” Thor said and made a step in his direction. 

“Piss off,” Clint snarled. “And let me go!” Thor went closer to him and he saw the marks on his body, the marks that clearly screamed torture.

“No,” Thor shook his head. “I will bring you home. I love you and I will help you.” 

“But I don’t love you, I never loved you!” Clint hissed. “Let me go!” Thor swallowed hard. It hurt to hear that out of his mouth and to see his eyes glaring at him hurt even more. But someone had hurt Clint and he would find them. 

He went over to him and sat down on the bed beside him. “I do not know who did that to you, beloved, but I will bring you back, I will help you.” 

Clint struggled again. “Let go of me! You can’t keep me against my will.” 

Thor looked at him for a very long moment but then he rose and left the hospital. Outside he looked up in the sky and took a deep breath. “Heimdall, I know you can hear me. Clint needs help and I know only one who can help him. Please, tell Loki I asked for his help. I need him,” and after a moment he added, “Clint needs him.”


	2. “You’re the reason they’re dead!” - Clint Barton/Tony Stark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some Shield Agent yells at Clint “You’re the reason they’re dead!” shortly after New York (with Amerihawk or Ironhawk)

“Hey,” Tony said quietly and hunkered down beside Clint. He sat in one of the broom cabinets, squeezed between a ladder and a dust mop. “Here you are.” Clint had his legs drawn to his body, his head on his knees and his hands folded over it. 

Clint didn’t move, didn’t look up, didn’t say a word and so Tony sat down opposite of him. He leaned back against a vacuum cleaner and folded his legs. He kept quiet, too, waited for Clint to say a word. He knew there was no use in trying to force him to talk, he wouldn’t. And so he just waited. He sent a quick text to Sharon, his new assistant to cancel all his appointments for the day.

It took half an hour for Clint to move, to look up, to realize that he was here. 

“Why are you here?” he whispered and Tony could see tear stains on his face. 

“Because you are here,” Tony said as if it wasn’t obvious. 

“No, I mean… why are you here… with me,” Clint said. Tony cocked his head and blinked. It was a tricky question and he bit his lip before he answered. 

“Clint, I will always be with you, remember? I told you,” he said then. 

“But why?” Clint folded his arms around his legs now. 

“Because I love you,” Tony said matter of factly. 

“You’re the reason they’re dead!” Clint said. Tony’s brows hit his hairline. 

“Come again?” he asked. 

“McGarrett said that,” Clint whispered. He turned his head and now Tony could see a huge bruise around his eye. And now that he had noticed it, he saw more bruises around his wrists. Someone held him and beat him up. 

“Who did that, Clint?” Tony reached out and gently trailed his finger over the bruise on his wrist. Clint pulled his hand back and tried to hide it. “Clint,” Tony repeated, “who did that?” 

“Lahey, Williams, Jameson, McGarrett, Sanders, Charles, Wang, Tretjak,” Clint said quietly. “They said the attack was my fault and… people died… people they knew… people they… they loved and… and it’s my fault.” 

Tony reached out and took Clint’s hand. “Oh baby,” he said and moved as close as possible to him. Clint looked up at him and another tear ran over his face. Tony moved - and it wasn’t easy in the small, overstuffed broom cabinet - but he managed to sit beside Clint and to put his arms around him. “You don’t have to stay here,” he murmured. “They will never accept that it was Loki and not you. Come with me to the tower. Fury agreed already.” 

“And then what?” Clint asked quietly but didn’t let go of him. 

“You’re an Avenger, baby,” Tony said. “You don’t have to stay here in this facility where they beat you up.” He kissed Clint’s temple.

“But they’re right,” Clint said. Tony put his finger on Clint’s cheek, turned his head so he had to look at him. 

“No, they are not!” He said firmly. “You are a hero and you’re an Avenger. Loki forced you to do unbelievable things but that was not your fault. Do you understand? Dr. Wiedner told you, too.” 

Clint nodded slowly. 

“Please come with me to the tower, stay with the rest of the team. It’s six months and they still hurt you. You need to get away from them and… I really, really, really want you there.” 

“Do you?” Clint asked now weakly and Tony cursed those fuckers who always hurt Clint physically and verbally. 

“Yes, I do,” he said. “I love you,” he added then.

“I…” Clint started, stopped, swallowed and looked at him, “I love you, too, Tony.” 

“Will you come with me then?” he asked and sighed relieved when Clint nodded. 

“Okay.”


	3. “You’re so stupid. So weak.” - Clint Barton & Barney Barton

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re so stupid. So weak.” What about Barney to Clint? Maybe during their time in the circus?

Barney sat on one of the seats, glared at the two men in the ring… and Clint, his younger brother. He was sixteen years old and was only good enough to shovel the shit out of the animal cages but Clint… Clint was the golden child, their new protegee. He was four years younger than Barney and couldn’t even string the bow himself but he was the new star. 

Barney snorted, when he saw Buck explaining something to Clint again and again. He couldn’t understand them, they were too far away and didn’t talk too loud but Buck seemed pretty pissed when Clint shook his head again. 

He looked at his watch, his break was over and Barney rose and left the big top. Jacques gestured with his hands and yelled in French at his brother and Barney shook his head and rolled his eyes. 

“You need to feed the goats,” Carson said as soon as he saw Barney. “And then you can help at the entrance.” 

“Yes, sir,” Barney mumbled and went to do his job, muttering curses under his breath.

Later that evening, when the last show was over and everything was prepared for the next morning, Clint came into the trailer they shared with two of the other helpers. He fell onto his bunk and groaned. Barney could see a huge purple shiner over his right eye. 

“What happened?” He asked. Maybe he was a tiny bit worried but he wouldn’t admit it if his life depended on it. 

Clint turned and looked at him and bit his lip. 

“Jacques and Buck…” he said slowly, “they…” he stopped and pursed his lips. 

“They what? Did they beat you?” He went to Clint’s bunk to look at him but he just shook his head.

“They… they want me for a…” he licked his lips. “They want me for a job.” 

“A job? What kind of job? You already have a job. And you’re twelve for crying out loud,” he said. “You…” he stopped when Allan came into the trailer, went to his locker, opened it, took a bottle of something alcoholic out of it and left again. “What kind of job?” He asked again when they were alone.

“I think it’s something illegal,” Clint said. “They said they would give me money.” 

“And what did you say?” Barney asked. 

“What? I said no!” Clint sat up and frowned. “What did you think?” 

“You tell me exactly what they said,” Barney demanded now. And Clint did. Apparently Buck and Jacques wanted to rob a jewelry store and they needed Clint’s skills with the bow and the fact that he was a tiny runt and could pick locks at record speed. 

“And you said no?” Barney asked now. Clint nodded. 

“Of course! It’s illegal, and…”

“And?” Barney hissed. 

“And I don’t want to go to jail!” Clint snapped now. 

“God, you’re such an idiot!” Barney spat. “You’re so stupid! So weak!” 

“What? Do you want me to help them commit burglary?” 

“Don’t you get it? Are you really so dumb? That’s our way out of here!” he said. 

“What?” Clint asked again. 

“I’ll go to Buck and tell him that you accept,” he said and when Clint opened his mouth, Barney raised a finger, “and I tell him that I’m in as well.” 

“No, Barney, I…” Clint started but Barney interrupted him. 

“Do you really want to be a circus clown for the rest of your life? This, Clint, this is our way out of here.” 

“But…” Clint tried again.

“No but, this is our chance. Believe me!” Barney sighed. “In a few years, Clint, in a few years we’re rich and then… can you imagine it?” Clint was quiet for a long moment, just scrutinized him and then, then he nodded. 

“I’ll talk to Buck,” Barney said and left the trailer. When he was outside he couldn’t hold back the grin. Oh yes, they would help Buck and Jacques and when they had enough money, they… no, he… he would live the life he deserved. He grinned and walked over to Buck’s trailer.


	4. “Just go away. I don’t want you here.” - Clint Barton/Phil Coulson, Clint Barton/Sam Wilson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [needshiscarisi](https://needshiscarisi.tumblr.com/) requested:   
>  “Just go away. I don’t want you here.” with Phil/Clint? For the prompt meme?

Fury was a bastard. Clint knew that from the very first moment. He knew it when he signed his contract but Clint signed it nevertheless. He didn’t work with Fury, he worked with Coulson. And Coulson would have to deal with Fury, that was the deal he had made. 

He only met him the three times he really fucked up and Fury had called him to his office to chew him out. That was what he had expected after the battle of New York, when Fury had called him, said that he wanted to talk to him. But there, in his office, he had told him the worst he could imagine. He had told him that Phil was dead and - in a way - it was his fault. It was as if someone had pulled the rug out from under his feet. 

“No one’s going to blame you, Agent Barton,” Fury had said. He had said more, but Clint hadn’t listened anymore. He rose from the chair he sat on and left the office without a word. His relationship with Phil had changed over the time. From a fatherly friend to a rebellious teenaged Clint he became a close friend and then, when he was older, first a lover and then husband. Until Fury had told him that Phil was dead. 

The first weeks Clint was still under observation in a SHIELD facility. He refused to talk to anyone but when the lights went out he lay on his bed and cried. Then they released him and Fury sent him to become a member of the Avengers. But Clint was still not over it, not by a long shot. Luckily Tony was here and Tony was an alcoholic so Clint had someone who drank himself to stupidity every night with him and for the first weeks Nat and Steve left him alone. Well, until he found himself half naked on the pool table, lying face down in his own puke. From that moment on they took away the alcohol from both of them and they forced Tony to go to rehab and Clint to go to a shrink. They literally dragged him there and surprisingly it helped. It took him almost a year but then Clint realized he could sleep at night without nightmares more often than not. 

He even had started to live again, started to go out again, started to meet new people. But life's a bitch and just when he and Sam Wilson, a new friend of Steve, started to date someone came back in Clint’s life, someone he had thought was dead. 

It was a rescue mission for Phil’s team - something too big for them - and the Avengers were called to help them. Clint saw him, missed a shot before he remembered that he was a professional and could concentrate for the rest of the fight. He just blocked it out, even if he saw Steve and Sam look in his direction worriedly more than one time. 

“I know what Fury told you,” was the first thing he said when he cornered Clint in the quinjet. He just put away his bow and his arrows and didn’t dare to turn around. To just hear his voice was enough to bring all the nightmares back. “I… I wanted you to know that it wasn’t my idea and…” 

“Go away,” Clint muttered. “Just go away. I don’t want you here.” 

“Clint, I…” he said again and this time he whirled around, looked at him, at his former - his still? - husband. He looked older, different. Not so calm and collected anymore. He looked more human nowadays.

“Go away,” he repeated and shook his head. Phil swallowed and nodded slowly. 

“It wasn’t my idea,” he said. “Fury…” 

“Please…” Clint whispered and squeezed his eyes shut. 

“I was dead. They brought me back and… the first few months I couldn’t remember… they…” 

“Go! Away!” Clint yelled now and pressed both his hands over his ears. “Go away! Go away! Go away!” Phil stayed for a few moments longer but then he nodded, turned and left the quinjet. Clint slid down to the ground, pulled his knees to his chest and let his head drop against the wall behind him. 

“Hey,” a soft voice said beside him and he opened his eyes. He looked in the concerned face of Sam and he sat down beside him. Clint opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t and so he just closed it again and shook his head. “You don’t have to talk,” Sam said, slid beside him and put an arm around his shoulders. 

“Why?” he asked after a very long moment and Sam took a deep breath, pushed a few strands of hair out of Clint’s face and shrugged. 

“Fury’s a bastard.”


	5. “Who would’ve thought a sweet thing like you would have such a secret?” - Clint Barton/Steve Rogers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Who would've thought a sweet thing like you would have such a secret?' Amerihawk

“You wanted to see me, Cap?” Clint said. Steve closed the door behind him and Clint could hear the click when he locked it. He swallowed but he managed not to look over his shoulder. A few seconds later he could hear Steve’s footfall and the man came back, sat down behind his desk and leaned back. Without taking his eyes off of Clint he took the file he had on his desk, opened it, took out a piece of paper, placed it on the desk, turned it and shoved it over to Clint. 

He looked at it and felt the dread settle in his stomach.

“Who would’ve thought a sweet thing like you would have such a secret?” Steve said and smiled and it was probably the scariest thing Clint had seen in a while. It wasn’t the polite boy scout smile he usually showed, no, this smile was predatory, almost evil. 

“I… don’t know what you mean,” Clint said lamely and even in his own ears it didn’t sound convincing. 

“Coulson is dead, Clint,” Steve said. “I’m your handler now and I got your file, the unredacted version.” Clint closed his eyes. He knew what was in it, he knew what Steve found there. 

“Steve,” he started but with a raised finger Steve interrupted him. 

“I know what you are, Clint,” he said and rose from his chair. “Non-dynamic,” he snorted and stepped behind Clint, put his hand on Clint’s shoulder. “Non-dynamic my ass.” 

“Steve, please,” he said but once again he got interrupted.

“On your knees,” he suddenly said. He used the voice and Clint had to scrape up all his willpower to withstand it. “On your knees,” he repeated and used his hand to press him down and this time Clint couldn’t resist. He closed his eyes when his knees hit the ground. 

“Look what we have here,” Steve purred. “You’re a sub, Clint, and I know it.” 

“Steve…” Clint started again. Steve squeezed his shoulder painfully and Clint winced. It hurt. 

“Subs aren't allowed in any form of military service and you know that. That’s why Coulson hid your true nature from everyone, even Fury. But he kept the original file in his safe and I found it.” 

“What… what are you going to do now?” Clint asked and swallowed again. He knew, technically he had to leave SHIELD and had to be registered as an uncollared sub. He would be punished severely for pretending to be non-dynamic and then he would get a legal guardian until a Dom would collar him, with or without his consent. No one would ask him if he wanted to be collared, his legal guardian would decide for him. 

“You have two options,” Steve said. He walked around him and hunkered down to look at him. “One, I can blow your cover and you know the routine,” Steve said smiling that awful smile again and Clint nodded. “And option two,” he said and reached in his pocket, took out a collar and held it out for Clint, “you chose to be my sub.” The collar was thin and delicate and could easily be hidden under his clothes. Clint’s mouth went dry. 

“I would cover you the way Coulson had done. No one outside of the team would have to know and you could stay with the Avengers,” Steve said. 

“But… one way or the other, I’m not free anymore,” Clint snorted bitterly. Steve looked at him for a long moment, then shrugged. 

“It’s your choice,” he said. “You can say no if you don’t want to.” 

Clint looked at him for a very long time, swallowed and nodded. He took the collar Steve still held in his hand. And when he raised a brow Clint took a deep breath, put it around his neck and locked it with an audible click.


	6. “I’ll tell everyone. Scream so loud the country will hear.” - Clint Barton/Steve Rogers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’ll tell everyone. Scream so loud the country will hear.” Barney with some AmeriHawk?

Clint was happy, Steve knew that. He knew him well enough to know that he was happy. He smiled more, slept more, drank less coffee. Yes, he was definitely happy. 

When Steve rose this morning Clint was gone. He frowned because he only rose early when he had to go on a mission. He went to the kitchen but he wasn’t there either. 

“Friday,” Steve addressed the AI, “do you know where Clint is?” 

“He left this morning after getting a message on his phone,” Friday said. 

“Did he say whereto he went?” 

“No, sir, I’m afraid he didn’t.” Steve pursed his lips and frowned even more. That’s very unlikely him. Sure, sometimes Clint was a walking disaster but he always told him when he left. He never forgot. 

He looked at his phone but there was no message and now Steve was worried. “Uhm,” he felt bad to ask this, “can you locate him?” 

“Sir, Agent Barton asked me not to,” the AI admitted. 

“What the…” Steve blurted. He sent a text to Clint and then sat there and stared at his phone but he didn’t get an answer. 

“Friday, is Tony here?” He asked and the AI confirmed it. Hastily Steve left his apartment and went to Tony’s where he found the man lying on a deck chair and enjoying the sun. 

“Steven,” Tony greeted him but didn’t dare to rise. He just removed his shades and cocked his head. 

“I need your help,” Steve said and Tony raised a brow. 

“Sorry, but Pepper insisted that I have to take a day off and she said I’m only allowed to do something if the world is burning,” he smirked. 

“Clint is gone and I’m worried,” Steve said. “Please,” he added. 

“But when Pepper gets angry I’ll send her to you,” Tony sighed. “What do you need?” 

“Find out where he is,” he said. Tony took a deep breath, took the StarkPad he had on a table close by, typed for a few minutes and then he said, “He’s in the diner at the corner. The one where you always go to eat breakfast.” 

“Thanks, Tony,” he said and left Tony’s apartment. He muttered something under his breath, put on his shades again and lay back on his deckchair. But Steve didn’t listen. He went as fast as possible to the elevator, rode down to the ground floor and jogged along the street to the diner. 

Clint was there. He seemed to wait for someone and just when Steve entered the diner he saw another man sit down opposite of him. 

Steve slipped in the booth behind Clint and grabbed the menu and stared at it to keep the waitress away. But with his ears he was with Clint and his mysterious companion. 

“Barney,” Clint said and Steve almost turned around to stare at him. _That_ was Clint’s brother! 

“Clint,” the other man said coldly. 

“What do you want?” Clint asked now. 

“Always straight to the point,” Barney Barton said. “Okay, then straight to the point. I know about you and the Captain.” Steve paled. He loved Clint but both agreed to keep it low-key. No one needed to know about their relationship. It was private and they both liked it that way. 

“So?” Clint snarled angrily. “And now?” 

“I’ll tell everyone. Scream so loud the country will hear,” Barney laughed. Clint took a deep breath. 

“Don’t you dare, Barney,” Clint hissed. 

“Oh, you can prevent it,” Barney said. “Give me ten million dollars and I will keep my trap shut for the rest of my life.” 

Blackmail? Clint got blackmailed by his own brother? And… he, Steve, was the reason? To keep their relationship a secret? No, he couldn't let that happen. He couldn’t let Clint’s brother win. 

And so Steve took a deep breath, rose and went to their table. 

“Steve?” Clint breathed. Clint’s brother just opened his mouth, but Steve cut him short with a raised finger.

“You’re Clint’s brother? May I introduce myself, my name is Steven Grant Rogers. People know me as Captain America,” he said loud enough people could hear him before he grabbed Clint’s hand, pulled him up and kissed him. Right there, in front of all the people. He could hear some people cheer, some people clap and lots of people take pictures with their phones. “And this is the man I love.”

When they finally broke the kiss Steve leaned down to Barney, smiled sweetly at him and said, “If you ever try to blackmail him again, you will regret it.” 

And then he kissed Clint again and he could feel the happy smile on his lips.


	7. “I have a friend with a radio station, you know. Broadcast it all over the city.” - Clint Barton/Tony Stark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I have a friend with a radio station, you know. Broadcast it all over the city.” Any pairing, but possibly Clint's time as a carney kid is what they are threatening to share? (What he did in the circus can be up to you as well)

“I have a friend with a radio station,” the man said and grinned. “Broadcast it all over the city.” He gestured at Clint, who stood on the other side of the room, wearing a tuxedo, talking to General Hammond. He seemed relaxed, despite him having to attend one of the charity events he hated so much. Tony looked at him and deliberated if he should drag him out onto the deck and throw him over the balustrade. 

“What do you think the world would say if they learn what your precious husband had done when he was a child?” The man in front of Tony grinned again. 

“Are you threatening me?” Tony asked calmly. 

“Well, yes,” the man said again. “A carnie kid whose father killed his mother in a car crash, people would love to hear that. A carnie who left school with twelve and…” 

Tony made a step in his direction. “Careful what you say next,” he hissed. 

“Mr. Stark,” the man grinned. “Ten million dollars or the whole world will learn that they put their lives in the hands of an undereducated hick when the Avengers come to save the world.” 

“Get! Out!” Tony hissed and the man made a step back and took a bow before he turned and left. He took a deep breath and looked at Clint again. He just laughed at something the General had said and even he could see his scrunching nose and the wrinkles around his eyes. 

He pinched the bridge of his nose, put the glass he held in his hand down on a table and went over to Clint. Just when he was close Clint turned, saw him and the smile on his face broadened. 

“Excuse me, General,” Tony smiled at the man beside Clint. “Can I borrow my husband for a moment?” 

“Sure, Mr. Stark,” the General nodded and Clint and Tony left the ball room together. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked as soon as they were alone. 

“I promised to never asked but…” he sighed and looked up again. “But what did you do in the circus, Clint,” he said then. 

“Why do you ask?” Clint wanted to know and Tony took a deep breath. 

“I… need to know,” he said then. Clint scrutinized him for a long moment before he nodded. 

“My brother and me, we had an act together, a combination of artistry and our skills with the bows,” he said then. 

“That’s it?” Tony said. Clint looked at him again with that unreadable gaze. 

“And we robbed banks,” he added after a long moment. “Our mentors Trick Shot and Swordsman, my brother and me.” 

“Does anyone know about the banks?” Tony asked. Clint shook his head. 

“Why do you ask?” 

“So, no one knows about the banks, right?” Clint nodded. 

“SHIELD knows but they checked it. No one knows about them.” 

“You and your brother… are you still able to do that? Your routine, I mean?” He asked then. 

“Sure,” Clint said. “I mean, with a little training, but…” he stopped, cocked his head. “What’s wrong, Tony?”

“Some asshat tried to blackmail us, said he would broadcast it all over the city that you’ve been in the circus and that people would hate you then. And so I thought we just turn the tables and give the people the most artistic performance in the world, a charity performance and…” 

Clint cocked his head. “That’s… actually, that’s a good idea,” he smiled. “I’ll call Barney. Let’s beat him at his own game.” 

“I knew there was a reason why I married you,” Tony smiled. 

And Clint chuckled, “I love you, too.”


	8. “If you want this back, you’ll do whatever I say!” - Clint Barton/Tony Stark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'If you want this back, you'll do whatever I say.' Brock threatening someone (Steve, Bruce, Tony) with Clint?

It was dark in the room when Tony opened the door. He frowned. He knew, when he had left the room minutes earlier to get some coffee he had left the light on. He switched on the small lamp over his workbench and looked around.

“FRIDAY?” he asked, but the AI kept quiet. “FRIDAY,” he said again, but stopped, when he saw something move in the back of his workshop. 

“Clint?” he asked but someone started to chuckle. 

“Clint’s not here,” a voice said. He had heard the voice before and stopped dead in his tracks. 

“Rumlow?” 

The man moved forward and came into his view. He could see his burnt face and the smirk on his lips. 

“Yeah, Stark, Rumlow,” he said and came closer. Tony looked for something he could use as weapon but Rumlow apparently saw it and shook his head. “Don’t,” he said. 

“Why are you here? And how did you get in?” Tony snapped. 

“It was my job, remember? And why am I here? Hmm… maybe because I have to offer you a deal,” he smiled. 

Now it was Tony who snorted. “A deal? With you? You gotta be kidding?” 

Rumlow didn’t answer, he reached in his pocket and when Tony stiffened he raised his other hand to show him that he had no weapon in it. Tony waited and Rumlow pulled out a flash drive. He gave it to Tony who looked at it, his brow raised. “You have to put it in your computer and look at it,” Rumlow said. 

“Yeah, and you’ve spiked it with viruses and all that?” Tony asked. Rumlow shook his head and Tony put his mug down, went to one of the computers. When the screen flickered to life he clicked on the file he found on the flashdrive and saw a few videos there. 

“Look at them,” Rumlow said. Tony frowned but clicked on the first one. And when he saw it, he had to sit down. It was gay hardcore fetish porn and he recognized the sub immediately. It was Clint. He wore a leather harness, was tied to a bench and two guys just spit roasted him, while a third one tortured his dick with a cattle prod. 

“Ah, that’s my favorite one,” Rumlow giggled. “But you should look at the others, too,” he added. 

“Where did you get them?” Tony asked and Rumlow sat down opposite of him. 

“Oh, I know people. The one where he got fisted is hot as well,” he grinned. 

“What do you want?” Tony wanted to know. He stopped the movie and the screen went black. Of course he knew, that Clint had made porn, Clint had told him, but he had never seen one. He didn’t want to see them. He had just thought that he had all of them deleted. Rumlow reached over and fetched the flash drive back. 

“It’s the only copy. If you want this back, you’ll better do what I say,” he said with a grin. 

“Why don’t I just shoot you and take it?” Tony asked. Rumlow shrugged and drew his gun. 

“Maybe because I removed all your weapons while you were gone and disabled your AI so you can’t call your suits for help,” he said. 

“Again,” Tony said and closed his eyes, “What do you want?” 

“Oh, only the access codes for the new SHIELD HQ,” Rumlow smirked. Tony’s brows hit his hairline. 

“You kidding, right?” He asked and Rumlow shook his head. But just when he opened his mouth again something hit his shoulder. He turned his head and stared disbelievingly at the tranquilizer dart. He tried to rise his gun but his hand refused to work. 

“You know,” Tony said and rose, “when Fury disabled my AI that one time, I built in a failsafe. As soon as someone without authority meddles with my stuff, an alarm goes off.” 

Clint came over to him when Tony leaned down and took the flash drive. 

“He didn’t take into account that you’re a genius?” Clint looked at the unconscious man on the ground. Tony shook his head. 

“No, apparently not,” he smiled. “Thanks for coming down to save me.” He gave the flash drive to Clint. “I guess this is yours.” 

“Thanks,” Clint said earnestly . “You know that I love you?” 

“I know,” Tony said and smiled at him. 

Clint rolled his eyes. “Dork.” 

“Love you, too.”


	9. “Be a good little slave, you don’t want your secret out, do you?” - Clint Barton & Loki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Be a good little slave, you don’t want your secret out, do you?” Any for the bad guy but can we get good guy Loki? Clint needs a little love after all the abuse he’s taking

Carefully Clint opened the door, looked to the left side and then to the right and when the coast was clear he left the kitchen. Quietly he sneaked along the corridor. He knew every corner in the palace, he lived here since he was ten years old, since the slavers brought him to Asgard. That’s why he didn’t need a light to find his way, he knew the palace like the back of his hand. 

But today he was down on his luck. He sneaked into another corridor, he could see the door already when suddenly and out of the blue a hand landed on his shoulder. He couldn’t hold back the squeal… and in his panic he dropped the bag he held. Apples rolled over the floor, together with pears and carrots, bread lay on the ground and the remaining meat from the feast this afternoon. 

“Got you!” The voice said and Clint paled. He knew the voice and his mouth went dry immediately. It was Prince Thor’s friend Fandral. Clint dropped to his knees. 

“Forgive me, master,” he pleaded. “I…” 

“You are the thief who steals the food from the kitchen,” Fandral said. The light went on and Clint turned his face away. “You?” the man blurted now. Apparently he hadn’t expected him. Clint cast his eyes down. 

Fandral grabbed his hair and forced him to look at him. “Why do you steal food in the kitchen? You’re Loki’s slave, I’m pretty sure you’re fed properly.” 

“It’s…” Clint stopped but when Fandral pulled his hair he continued. “It’s for the slaves in the barns,” he admitted. “All the food here is going to be thrown away and they… they’re hungry.” 

“You risk your status as house slave for the slaves in the barns?” Fandral asked incredulously. 

“They’re starving,” Clint whispered. He swallowed nervously. But then, with a grin, Fandral let go of Clint’s hair, reached for his fly, opened it and took out his half hard dick. 

“Suck me,” he commanded and Clint’s head snapped up.

“What?” He blurted. Fandral still grinned.

“Be a good little slave, you don’t want your secret out, do you?” he said. And slowly Clint nodded. He reached for his cock but Fandral backhanded him. 

“Did I say touch me?” he asked. Clint shook his head and after a moment he sat up and opened his mouth. Relentless Fandral shoved his cock in and Clint almost choked. Tears started to run over his face when the warrior facefucked him. “Use your tongue,” he breathed and Clint tried to obey but it wasn’t easy. “That’s better,” he groaned after a moment. 

“What are you doing here?” Someone asked coldly and Fandral stumbled back, his dick slipping out of Clint’s mouth. Clint coughed and slumped down to the ground. 

“Loki!” Fandral turned around and tried to put his dick back in his pants. 

“”What did you do to Clint?” Loki asked and made a threatening step in his direction. 

“He… he… he’s the thief who steals the food in the kitchen. He gives it to the slaves in the barns, against your father’s orders,” he said and pointed at Clint. Loki looked at him, scrutinized him for a very long moment. Clint swallowed hard and cast his eyes down. He knew he would be punished severely and he didn’t want to add to it. 

“He doesn’t steal food when I’m the one who told him to do it,” Loki suddenly said. Clint’s head snapped up and he stared at him open mouthed.

“What?” Fandral asked the same moment. 

“I said, I ordered him to do it. Are you hard of hearing? Too many hits on your head from my brother’s hammer?” 

“No, I…” Fandral started to stammer but Loki cut him short. 

“Get lost,” he said with a gesture with his head. Fandral nodded and left hurriedly. Loki made a step in Clint’s direction and hunkered down in front of him. “Why did you do it?” 

“My… my brother lives in the barns,” Clint said. “They really are starving. The work is hard and they don’t have enough food. They… they are starving.” 

Loki took a deep breath and nodded. “Take the food and bring it to the barns and I will see to it that the slaves get fed properly.” He rose and dusted off his robe. “And tomorrow you will come to my suite, no more kitchen duty, you work only for me now.” 

“Why… master?” Clint had to ask. Prince Loki looked at him for a very long moment before he smiled. 

“You have heart.”


	10. “I know everything. I can ruin you.” - Clint Barton/Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I know everything. I can ruin you.” with maybe a little winterhawk on the side???

“I need your help,” Bucky said as soon as he had closed the door of Clint’s apartment behind himself. “I can’t tell you a name, you can’t ask me about it later and we’re going to hurt someone.” 

Clint, who lounged in his armchair to watch a soccer game, looked up and furrowed his brows. “Whose car we gonna take?” was the only thing he asked. Bucky raised his hand and one of Stark’s car keys dangled from his finger. 

Clint rose, grabbed his jacket and put on some shoes and followed Bucky out of his apartment building. That was one of the things he loved about Clint, that he trusted him even if he didn’t know what he had in mind. 

This morning Bucky came back from his morning run and wanted to stumble into the HQ to get one of those awesome sports drinks - he loved the blue one - when he saw Steve talking with a man. Steve seemed more than pissed and Bucky went over to him. 

“I know everything,” the man hissed. “I can ruin you.” 

“Get lost before I forget my manners,” Steve growled and when the guy saw Bucky coming over to them he mounted his bike and drove away as fast as possible. 

“Who was that?” Bucky asked instead of a greeting. Steve sighed and turned around, a bitter streak around his lips. 

“Nelson Mueller,” he said. And he added, “A paparazzi.” It sounded like something disgusting. 

“What did he want?” Bucky asked and looked at the spot where the bike just vanished into the traffic. 

“I… I’ve been… I’ve been out with Tony and…” Steve sighed again. “We thought we were safe but this guy made photos and now…” 

“He’s blackmailing you?” Bucky blurted. He knew all his life that Steve liked both, women and men, but Steve wasn’t willing to come out to public. He always said that his love life was his own affair it’s none of the people’s business. 

Steve sighed. “Tony can talk to his lawyers and they can take care of it.” 

Bucky nodded. But he knew that even if Tony had probably the best lawyers in the country on his payroll they weren’t fast enough. He pursed his lips and followed Steve to the kitchen where he got his sports drink but he knew he had to help his friend. And that’s why he drove to Clint’s apartment an hour later. 

Bucky stopped the car in front of an apartment building not far away from Clint’s, got out of the car and went to the trunk. He had a sports bag in it, took it and went to the entrance. Clint just raised a brow but he followed him. It wasn’t difficult for Bucky to open the locked door and soon they were on the way to the guy’s apartment. On his way to the door he opened his bag, took out two balaclavas and two baseball bats, handed one of each of them to Clint and said he should put it on. Clint stopped for a moment but after a shared glance he did it and right now he loved him even more. 

Bucky didn’t bother with knocking, he just kicked the door in. The owner of the apartment sat in front of a desk and typed on a laptop but he whirled around when he heard him and Clint enter. 

“What the…” he started. Bucky was on him, grabbed his throat with his flesh and blood hand and slammed him into the wall. 

“You give me everything you have about Steve Rogers and Tony Stark or you will spend the next few weeks in a hospital bed." Clint, who had watched them, raised his baseball bat and destroyed the guy’s TV, his blu-ray player and his Playstation with a few hits. The man yelped but Bucky’s grip on his throat kept him in place. 

“You give me everything you have about Steve Rogers and Tony Stark or the next thing he destroys is your knee,” he hissed. The man started to shake violently and nodded frantically. When Bucky let go of him he went to his desk, opened a drawer but when he pulled out a gun instead of the data they wanted, Clint was swift to react. He swung his bat at the man’s wrist and he dropped the gun, holding his broken arm and screaming in pain. Now Clint was on him, spat in his face, “You heard the man. Give him what he wants or I break each and every bone in your body!” 

The man whimpered but this time he gave them a flash drive and a disc. 

“Is that everything?” Bucky asked and he nodded. Clint cocked his head, raised his bat and destroyed the laptop with a few hits. “And if you ever come up with the idea of blackmailing one of them again, we come back and then we’re not so nice.” 

Without looking back they both left the apartment removed their masks and Clint grinned at him. Bucky couldn’t help himself, he just had to press Clint into the wall and kiss him hard and violently. “God, I love you so much,” he growled. 

“Yeah?” Clint winked. “Show me.” Bucky grinned, grabbed Clint’s hand and dragged him to the car. He would drive him home and then fuck him into the closest flat surface until he would walk funny.


	11. “Beg me, and I might consider keeping my mouth shut.” (1/3) - Clint Barton/Bucky Barnes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [midghtwishesunheard](http://midghtwishesunheard.tumblr.com/) requested:  
>  “Beg me, and I might consider keeping my mouth shut.” With WinterHawk?

Clint couldn’t believe that this was really true. He, a farm boy from Bumfuck, Iowa and former circus artist was really here, in New York, in a Suite in the Four Seasons together with no less than James Buchanan Barnes, lead guitarist of the legendary Avengers, Clint’s favorite band. 

It was a lucky coincidence. Really. Scott, his friend, worked for them as a roadie but Scott broke his leg and they needed someone who could take up the slack. They needed someone who knew about stage lighting and wasn’t scared of heights. So Scott suggested Clint and Clint said yes. 

But to set up a concert stage was a tiny bit more complicated than the big top back in his days with the circus. And so he just looked at the scheme where he should connect which spotlight when he bumped into someone. 

“Careful,” a man said and Clint looked up… and stared open-mouthed. James Buchanan Barnes, his personal hero, stood in front of him. 

“You’re… you’re… you’re…” he stammered and the slightly older man smiled. 

“Yes, I am,” he said. “You’re new here?” 

“Uhm… yes, sir,” Clint nodded. “I’m the stand in for my friend Scott.” 

Barnes winced and scratched the back of his neck. “The guy who fell from the rafters?” 

“Yeah,” Clint said. And then he had no idea what to say because that was James Barnes for crying out loud. A moment later the man just nodded and walked away and Clint cursed himself for being such an idiot. 

He met him a few more times and - much to his astonishment - he always talked to him and joked and was nice. And Clint wasn’t sure but… it seemed a little bit as if he would flirt with him. Three shows later Barnes had invited him to have a beer with him. And that’s how he ended here, in a suite in Four Seasons in New York. In James Buchanan Barnes - “Call me Bucky, friends call me Bucky” - bed. 

He just fell back onto the mattress, completely worn out and breathed hard. Bucky propped himself on his arm and looked at him, a satisfied smirk on his lips. 

“That was…” Clint breathed and searched for words. But the only appropriate word he could think of was, “awesome!” 

“Really? So,” he purred, “not only a genius on the guitars?” 

“I had no idea that you’re into guys,” Clint said when he turned to look at him and Bucky dropped back onto the mattress, too. 

“No one knows,” he said slowly, and then he turned his head to look at him. “And it has to remain that way,” he added. 

Clint looked at him and said with a smile, "Beg me, and I might consider keeping my mouth shut.”

Bucky’s expression darkened and he sat up. “Are you trying to blackmail me?” He snapped. “Is it that why…” 

“No!” Clint interrupted him. He sat up, his hands raised in a defensive gesture and shook his head. “I… I didn’t mean it like that! I just…” he licked his lips. “It should be a joke, you know!” 

Bucky deflated. “Sorry,” he murmured. “It’s just… no one needs to know and our manager said, it should…” he gritted his teeth. “It would destroy our reputation or something like that.” 

“What?” Clint frowned now. “Your manager can decide about your love life?” 

Bucky shrugged. “It’s not just that,” he said. “I just don’t want the whole world to know what I do in my bed, you know.” He leaned over and brushed a few hairs out of Clint’s face. “Or who I like.” 

“You… you like me?” Clint blurted and stared at him wide eyed. “You… you like me?” he repeated at a loss for words. 

Once more Bucky shrugged. “Yes,” he said. “I do.” He leaned over and cupped Clint’s cheek, caressed his skin with his thumb and smiled. 

“That’s good,” Clint smiled. “Because… because I like you, too.” And with a smile Bucky leaned over and kissed him.


	12. “Beg me, and I might consider keeping my mouth shut.” (2/3) - Clint Barton/Sharon Carter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [givemea-thimble](https://givemea-thimble.tumblr.com/) requested:  
>  If prompts are still open: "Beg me and I might consider keeping my mouth shut" from Clint's early SHIELD days with either Nat, Hill, or Agent 13 - platonic or rare romantic pair, go crazy! :)

It was seldom that they worked together. In fact, this was just the third time since Clint became an agent that he was on a mission with Agent 13. Director Carter insisted that they had to work together. 

“So, what’s the plan,” he asked as soon as they closed the door of the safehouse in Las Vegas behind them. 

“Didn’t they brief you?” Sharon asked and raised a brow. Clint let his bags drop and shrugged. 

“They did,” he said and then shrugged again. “But a, I didn’t listen and b, plans from these bureaucrats usually tend to go down the drain.” 

Sharon rolled her eyes, put her bag on the couch and sat down in an armchair. “That sounds really great,” she muttered and pinched the bridge of her nose. 

“Hey, me’n Nat usually go over the plans when we arrive and so…” 

“I’m not Natasha,” Sharon sighed and Clint’s grin broadened. 

“I noticed,” he said and waggled his brows. Sharon rolled her eyes again. 

“Okay, you get something to eat, I take a shower and then we go over the plan,” she said and rose. 

“Sounds like a plan,” Clint grinned. 

An hour later they sat in the kitchen, ate Chinese take out out of cardboard boxes and talked about the plan. They should pretend to be a couple, should get into one of the high-limit poker games their mark organized and while Clint played Sharon should find his computer, steal his data and then they should get out, optimally with the guy arrested. 

“Your shampoo smells good,” Clint said, when Sharon leaned over to show him something on a map. She looked at him, and he smiled and shrugged again.

“Do you do that with Romanov as well?” she asked. 

“What?” Clint frowned. “Going over the plans?” 

“No, all those weird compliments,” she sighed. 

“A, they are not weird, I’m serious and b, what? No? Eww!” He made a sound as if she had suggested to cook a dog.

“There… are rumors,” Sharon said. 

“About me and Nat?” he blurted and Sharon nodded. “Eww!” He made the sound again. 

“You and she, you always stick together and…” 

“Believe me, we’re just friends. She’s like the sister I never had and… and that would be just weird,” he said. 

“Oh,” Sharon said. “Okay.” 

Half an hour later they both fell back onto the mattress, breathing hard. Sharon wiped away some sweat from her forehead and looked at the man beside her. He was worn out, but he smiled, not that cocky, shit-eating grin he usually wore, no, it was a gentle, happy smile. 

“Not that I’m gonna complain, but…” he started and Sharon sighed.

“There… are rumors,” she said. Clint raised a brow and she blushed violently. “About…” she let her eyes trail down over his chest and to his dick. Clint’s brows hit his hairline. 

“Seriously?” 

“No one can ever know,” Sharon said instead of an answer. “I mean it! No one! Especially not Aunt Peggy!” 

“Beg me, and I might consider keeping my mouth shut,” he grinned. Sharon turned to him, a brow raised. 

“Oh, and I could let it drop that your dick is tiny and you couldn’t get it up,” she said. “You know, women talk in the showers.” 

“Okay, okay, okay,” Clint raised both hands in faked surrender but with a smile on his lips. “So we’re even.” 

“Yeah,” she said and rose. “I need a shower.” 

“Good,” Clint said. “Let’s concentrate on the mission and then…” 

“When the mission is over,” Sharon interrupted him and stopped in the doorway, “we could discuss this topic again.” She smiled now and Clint understood. 

“I’d like that.”


	13. “Beg me, and I might consider keeping my mouth shut.” (3/3) - Clint Barton & Scott Lang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Beg me and I might considering keeping my mouth shut" Ant man and Hawkeye?

If you’d look in a dictionary you’d find a picture of Clint Barton beside ‘not a morning person’. Sure, he could get up early if he had to… but he preferred not to. But sometimes it was necessary. When he had to go on a mission for example. Like today. 

He woke up at the ass-crack of dawn, climbed out of his bed, shuffled into the kitchen to get some coffee and frowned. He could hear music and smelled bacon. He shuffled on and stared disbelievingly. Someone stood in front of the stove and cooked while listening to Queen’s ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’... and the person was singing along to it loudly. 

He wasn’t prepared to see other people right now but he needed his fix, he needed coffee, he… he had to be awake for his mission. 

“Oh, hey!” The person said and turned around. It was Scott and he smiled. It wasn’t even five in the morning and he smiled and sang and cooked breakfast for crying out loud. 

“You’re up early,” Scott said, turned, went to the cupboard, took out a mug, filled it with coffee and pressed it in Clint’s hand. He shoved him over to the small breakfast nook, sat him down on a chair. “Wanna get some eggs? I have bacon, too, if you want some,” he babbled. 

Clint took a sip from his mug. It was too early, too early for a conversation, too early to be up and definitely too early to sing along to Queen. 

“Can’t sleep?” Scott asked and shoveled eggs on a plate, put some bacon on it and brought it over to Clint, together with toast. It smelled… awful. His stomach wasn’t ready for food. 

“Mission,” he pressed through his teeth and emptied the mug. He deliberated if he should get up to refill it or flee and try to get some coffee on his way over to SHIELD. But he wasn’t able to function without his usual caffeine level and he couldn’t… it was too early to think. 

“The Blink-mission? You’re in on this, too?” Scott said, filled another plate with food and came back. “That’s awesome, we work together then,” he said and sat down. 

“Oh,” Clint said and stared at his still empty mug. Apparently Scott had seen it because he jumped up, grabbed the mug, went to the coffee maker and refilled it. 

“We haven’t worked together in a while and I really look forward to it,” Scott continued babbling. “I mean, I like the others, don’t get me wrong, but they’re all so…” 

Clint took a long sip from his mug and tried to block out Scott’s voice. But it was futile. 

“... and Steve, oh my god, Steve! He of all people should…” 

“Will you shut up already,” he eventually snapped. Scott stopped, looked at him, cocked his head and grinned. 

“Beg me, and I might consider keeping my mouth shut,” he said and Clint let his head drop on the table in front of him. 

“It’s too early,” he mumbled. “So, will you please, please, pretty please with sugar on top shut your face!” 

“But only because you said please,” Scott said, patted his shoulder and ate… this time in silence. Clint stayed there, his head on the table and groaned. He hated it, hated to be awake, hated all the people around him right now and hated that he had to go on a mission, he hated the people who needed his help and he hated SHIELD for sending him. 

“Uhm… not to interrupt your self-hate litany… but we have to go,” Scott said. Clint looked up and frowned. Did he say that aloud? 

“Yes, you did,” Scott said and Clint’s frown deepened. You… uh… you said that aloud, too.” 

“Can you drive?” Clint asked instead of an answer and looked up. Scott shrugged. 

“If you trust me enough to get you to SHIELD unharmed,” he said. 

“I drank your coffee,” Clint mumbled. Scott blinked a few times and shrugged again. 

“Fair enough,” he said and rose. 

“Can you drive and keep quiet?” Clint asked and rose, too. Scott grinned and pretended to lock his mouth. 

“Let’s go.”


	14. “Who could ever love you?” - Clint Barton/Steve Rogers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [midghtwishesunheard](http://midghtwishesunheard.tumblr.com/) requested:  
>  My son kicked my phone and sent the message before I was done! ... “Who could ever love you…?” Can we get this as a continuation of the AmeriHawk D/s one?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continued from Chapter 5

Steve was angry, more than angry. Since he had told the team about Clint’s status they had accepted that Clint was a sub. They were shocked but they accepted it, accepted that he now belonged to Steve. But they refused to treat him like a sub. They said they were used to treat him like a normal team member and they would continue doing so. 

This evening they watched a movie together and Clint sat on his usual place on the couch. But a good sub should kneel beside their Dom. When he had demanded that he should come over to him Tony laughed and said, he should chill and let Clint watch the movie. Steve gritted his teeth but he kept quiet until the movie was over and he said that he wanted to go to bed. He looked at Clint and after a moment he rose, too, said he needed his beauty sleep. But Steve was sure he had seen his warning glance. The team wished them a good night and Steve even waved when they left. 

But as soon as the door to their apartment closed behind them he grabbed Clint at his neck and threw him onto the ground. He whirled around and wanted to mouth of but a glance in his direction let him shut his mouth. 

“What the fuck did you think?” he snapped and reached down to grab Clint’s hair to force him to look at him. “Sitting on furniture!” 

Clint opened his mouth but Steve was faster and he backhanded him. “It’s only a few weeks since you became my sub but you continuously bring shame on me! But that will stop now!” He grabbed Clint’s arm and dragged him to the bedroom. “Undress and then on your knees!” 

“Wha…” Clint wanted to ask and Steve backhanded him before he could even say the first word. 

“I said, undress and on your knees,” Steve repeated. Clint swallowed hard and nodded. But then he shrugged out of his shirt and gave it to Steve. The first few times he had thrown it onto the floor but Steve hated untidiness. He removed his shoes, pants and undies and gave everything to Steve who put it on the armchair in the corner. When he was naked he went onto his knees, placed his butt on his knees and spread his legs as far as possible. He interwove his fingers and put his hands behind his neck. 

Steve knew that Clint hated this position. That’s why he ordered him to sit like that whenever they were alone and he had no other task for him. “What the fuck did you think you were doing?” 

“Am I allowed to speak now?” Clint asked with a bit of defiance in his voice. Steve decided to ignore it and nodded. 

“They said they would watch a movie and they asked me if I wanted to accompany them,” Clint said and dared to look up at him. “They said…” 

“It doesn’t matter what they say! They are not your Dom! That’s me, Barton! You belong to me now!” Steve snarled. He grabbed Clint’s hair again. “Don’t you ever forget that!” 

“How could I forget that?” Clint said bitterly. Steve backhanded him again. Clint wiped the blood off of his mouth and went back into position. “But they…” he started but Steve interrupted him.

“They what? They treat you like and equal? They even like you?” Clint looked at him for a moment before he cast his eyes down. “Who could ever love you?” he snorted snidely and turned around. 

“Phil could,” Clint whispered and Steve’s blood turned to ice. That’s why Coulson hid his true nature, that’s why Coulson protected him. They were more than just handler and asset. He knew that and he knew that he had to beat that out of Clint. 

“But Phil is dead and you belong to me now,” Steve hissed. He was close to Clint and he let his hand trail over his body down to his balls and squeezed them painfully. Clint groaned - mostly in pain but Steve saw the upcoming lust - and grinned. He was a sub and pain… pain was what they craved, what they needed. “Get on the bed for your punishment,” he commanded and Clint obeyed reluctantly. Steve felt the thrill of anticipation. He would make Clint scream and the archer would hate him for it… and love him.


	15. “Sing, birdie.” - Clint Barton & Brock Rumlow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Sing birdie” for the torture my character thing :)))

Clint found out the hard way that something was wrong within SHIELD. A week before Steve and Nat went with Rumlow to save Sitwell and the Lemurian Star Clint was sent with the same STRIKE team to secure data from a facility on Borneo and on their way back they took him out. He was dead tired and sat in the back of a quinjet when Rollins came over to him, sat down beside him and handed him a bottle with water. Clint trusted him. It was essentially to trust the people he worked with and so he opened it and drank. He only realized that he had made a mistake when his surroundings went blurry and he slowly lost consciousness. The last thing he saw were Rumlow and Rollins smirking down at him.

When he came around again he lay on a flat surface and stared at a dirty ceiling. It was cold around him and Clint tried to sit up but somehow it didn’t work. He tried to move his hand but that didn’t work either. He could move his head and frowned, when he saw his surroundings. He was in a white tiled room and he was bound to a metal table, something like an autopsy table. His captors had removed his tactical gear, his shoes and shirt, only his pants were left. Adrenaline rushed into his system and he started to struggle against the bonds that held him but it was futile, they were too strong. 

“Calm down, Barton,” he heard a voice only a few seconds later and his head snapped around. Rumlow stood in the doorway together with Rollins. For a moment he felt relief flood his body but then he remembered the bottle with water and he struggled again. 

“Where am I?” he asked. He didn’t expect an answer, he just wanted to make them talk.

“Somewhere, where you can’t interfere with our plans,” Rollins said and Rumlow glared at him. 

“Plans? What plans?” Clint asked now and Rumlow threw another nasty glance in Rollins’ direction. 

“You’re not here to ask questions, Barton, you’re here to answer them,” he said then. He turned around to the tray Rollins held in his hands, took a syringe and a small vial and filled it. “And to make it easier for you, we have here something to loosen you up a bit,” he grinned. Clint struggled again. 

“You know it won’t work with me,” he panted and tried to get out of Rumlow’s reach but the cuffs held him in position. 

“Oh, in that case, we have some other equipment, too,” Rumlow smirked. “Don’t worry, you’re going to sing, birdie.” 

“Fuck you!” Clint hissed. 

“Sorry,” Rumlow shrugged, “you’re not my type.” He went to Clint with the syringe, Rollins held his arm and Rumlow pierced his skin with the needle and pressed the plunger. “And now we’re going to have a nice talk about the Lemurian Star.”


	16. “I know exactly how to make you talk.” - Clint Barton/Matt Murdock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I know exactly how to make you talk" with daredevil?

“... and then we have to be at the hearing at two. Terrance Stone will…” Foggy chattered while checking the calendar in his phone. He continued walking and realized that Matt stopped and listened to something else than him talking when he waited for an answer and didn’t get one. 

There it was again, the sound that had him hesitate. As if someone got slapped hard in his face. 

“Matt?” Foggy asked and he could feel his eyes on him. He turned his head and listened. Slap, painful groan. 

“Are you okay?” Foggy asked and now Matt looked at him. 

“Can you…” he started and held out the briefcase he had in his hand. Foggy’s brows hit his hairline. 

“Really? Now?” he asked. “Didn’t you listen? We have to be at a hearing in…” he looked at his watch, “forty-two minutes.” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll be there,” Matt smiled. Foggy rolled his eyes but he took the briefcase and walked away, muttering curses under his breath. Matt could still hear him. With a smile on his lips he went in the side alley they had passed only seconds ago, got rid of his suit and pulled his mask over his face and then he ran, jumped on a trashcan and up to the fire ladder. 

Three minutes later he hunkered on the rafters in an empty warehouse and watched the scene beneath him. A man was tied to one of the rafters with chains. He could barely reach the floor with his toes and wore only his pants. The evil guys - five men with leather jackets - had poured water over him and he was dripping wet. They had a car battery and jump leads and one of them went to him with a grin on his lips. 

“I know exactly how to make you talk, Agent Barton,” the man said and leaned close to him. 

“Do you?” The tied man - Clint! - said. And then he chuckled. Matt frowned. 

“Agent Coulson,” the guys said. He was a huge guy with a beard and an eyepatch and seemed to be the leader of the gang. “Tell me about his team.” 

“Agent Coulson is dead,” Clint said. 

“Agent Coulson is alive,” the man hissed. 

“I’ve been at his funeral,” Clint hissed back. “Believe me, he’s dead!” 

“And who’s been the guy in Las Vegas then? The one who investigated the incident with the Chitauri apparatus?” 

“How am I supposed to know?” Clint snorted. “I wasn’t there.” 

“Don’t play the fool, Agent Barton,” the guy with the eyepatch hissed and used the jump leads on Clint. He screamed in pain and struggled against the bonds. “I have seen him and his team. Tell me why he was there.” 

He threatened him again with the jump leads and Matt had seen enough, he threw his stick at the lamps and they went out. It was pitch black inside and he dropped down. The guys were good but without sight they couldn’t do much and soon Matt had taken them out. He untied Clint and dragged him out into the side alley. 

“What the fuck,” he cursed. “Aw, Matt, no!” 

“You’re welcome, _Agent Barton_ ,” Matt said mockingly. “It was a pleasure to help you.” 

“No, I…” Clint sighed. “I had everything under control. I was working and now they won’t tell me why they were in Las Vegas.” 

“You what?” Matt stopped and stared at Clint disbelievingly. 

“I was working,” Clint said and took a deep breath. 

“You let them torture you so _they_ would tell _you_ what you need to know?” Matt blurted. 

“Uh… yes?” Clint said. Matt pinched the bridge of his nose. “Hey, they tend to be more talkative when they think they’re in control. And really, I know how much I can take and I could’ve escaped whenever necessary.” 

“You’re kidding, right?” 

“No, Matt, I’m not,” Clint sighed. “Believe me, it works. Well, usually it does. Not when I get rescued too early.” 

Matt shook his head. “I have to be at a hearing in a few minutes,” he said then. “But this afternoon I want an explanation.” 

Clint grinned and saluted sloppily, “It’s a date.”


	17. “You know some fascinating things, don’t you?” - Clint Barton & Avengers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [midghtwishesunheard](http://midghtwishesunheard.tumblr.com/) requested:  
>  “You know some fascinating things, don’t you?” Non-Shield Clint with the avengers interrogating him?

Clint paced inside of his cell. It was empty aside from a metal bed wielded to the wall and a mirror opposite of it. He knew that the mirror was a window from the other side and he was sure they would watch him. He paced nevertheless and cursed himself repeatedly. He was careless and that’s why they captured him. 

Four weeks ago he literally stumbled upon a bunch of guys, human traffickers, who abducted pregnant women shortly before they should deliver and cut the babies out of their wombs. They sold the babies to rich families without qualms and left the women to die. He didn’t mean to find them but he saw them unload one of the women in a back alley. She was more dead than alive but she was alive, bled like a stuck pig and only the fact that Clint was there made them disappear. 

He called the cops and an ambulance and the woman survived but Clint knew he had to do something. He killed men for money, awful men, men who deserved to be dead and now, now he would kill for the babies.   
It took him three weeks and quite a few favors to find out everything about them, another week to find them and then he had killed them, one by one, slow and painful. He didn’t take into consideration that the Avengers, the mighty Avengers, took interest in him. And when he killed the last one of the traffickers they had captured him. But at least he could shoot down Iron Man with one of his EMP arrows and he had injured the guy with the metal arm. 

He had no idea where he was, but they had taken his gear, all his weapons - yes, all of them - and his clothes and they had given him a white jumpsuit and flip flops. It was cold inside of his cell, he shivered and rubbed his arms. They had brought him water but he didn’t dare to drink it. Only god knew what they had put in it. 

He whirled around when the door was unlocked and two huge men came in. Both were blond and one had long hair in a ponytail and a beard. 

“Clint Barton,” the short haired man said. “Aka Hawkeye.” 

Clint swallowed and licked his lips. “You are a killer for hire,” the other one said. 

“But you only kill really bad men, aren’t you?” the first one said. They closed in on him and Clint’s back hit the wall behind him. 

“You will tell us everything,” the man with the ponytail said. 

“Because we’re sure you know some fascinating things,” the short haired man said. “Don’t you?” 

“Forget it,” Clint snorted. “I won’t tell you anything.” 

“Oh, you will tell us what we want to know,” Ponytail said now. “We have ways and means.” 

“Who hired you? Why did you kill these men? And who pimped your eyes?” the other one wanted to know. 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Clint blurted. “No one did anything with my eyes.” 

“The woman you saved was the great-great-niece of one of us and she survived because of you,” the short haired man said. “That’s why we found you, and now, now we’re gonna talk.”


	18. “I’ll use your greatest weaknesses against you, and you know I know them all.” - Clint Barton & Loki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’ll use your greatest weaknesses against you, and you know I know them all.” With Loki torturing Clint?

“You’re awake,” Loki stated when the door slammed shut behind him. Clint didn’t bother with turning his head. He knew the trickster would come over to him nevertheless. The last time Loki was with him he left him chained to a stone block. Clint just closed his eyes when he heard him. 

He startled slightly when Loki touched his arm but didn’t look at him. 

“Open your eyes, pet,” he demanded but Clint only gritted his teeth and turned his head away. Loki growled, grabbed his chin and forced his head around. “Look at me.” 

Clint swallowed and squeezed his eyes shut. 

“Look at me,” Loki repeated and forced Clint’s head around. He moved his hands, tried to fend him off but the chains around his wrists prevented it. He still didn’t open his eyes. 

“Well,” Loki said and only a moment later pain ran through his body and Clint arched and finally tore open his eyes. He saw a taser in Loki’s hand and for a brief moment he wondered where he got it from. 

“Good boy,” Loki praised him with a smile and Clint glared at him. 

“You can still let me go,” he said after a long moment. 

“No,” Loki shook shook his head. “Your teammates sold you to me, remember?” 

“How could I forget?” Clint said bitterly. He turned his head away again and only a second later the pain ran through his body again. Clint screamed. 

“You belong to me and soon you will lead my army, pet,” Loki said. 

“Never,” Clint hissed and pulled at his chains again. Every day since he had brought him here Loki came and said the same shit. And Clint still refused. The pain was excruciating but fortunately the torture training he had completed at SHIELD was helpful. For now. 

“You’ll do what I want, pet,” Loki hissed. “I’ll use your greatest weaknesses against you and you know I know them all.”

Clint turned his head and looked at Loki now. “What? What can you do?” He hissed. “What can you do what you haven’t done to me already?” 

“Oh, you’ll see,” Loki grinned. He put both his hands on Clint’s temples. His eyes widened when he felt Loki’s magic cloud his consciousness. “We’re going to visit your friends on earth.”


	19. “I have means of extracting information from you.” - Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you do a Clintasha thing   
> (I picked this prompt: “I have means of extracting information from you.” )

It was astounding how often they could use this trick and it still worked. Apparently the bad guys never learned something new. 

Natasha was in an empty house in an almost abandoned suburb. She sat on a chair, her arms tied to the armrests, her legs tied to the legs of the chair. With her were a few men who tried to interrogate her but in fact they told her everything she wanted to know. 

Clint lay on a roof opposite of the house Natasha was in. No one could see him - it was night and he was hidden - but he could see them and thanks to an almost invisible comm unit he could hear what happened over there. 

“I have means of extracting information from you,” one of the guys just snarled and glared at Natasha. Clint could see her roll her eyes. 

“I’m pretty sure you have,” she said. “But that doesn’t mean I can tell you more than I already have.” 

“The great Black Widow? And you want to tell me you know nothing more about Captain Hart?” 

“No,” Natasha said. “The last thing I heard about him was that he stole your goddamn submarine and fled. SHIELD is searching him but…” 

“He’s not that good, bitch,” the guy said and hit her again. “He can’t just disappear without a trace!” 

“Apparently he can,” Natasha shrugged. “We lost his trail in South Africa.” 

“South Africa? How could he get there so fast?” One of the men asked. “He was in Portland Canal only two days ago.” 

“Shut up,” the first one snapped. 

“I think we know enough now,” Natasha suddenly said and looked over her shoulder. Clint grinned, drew and released the arrow he had nocked the moment he had settled in on his perch. The arrow flew and embedded itself in the guys eye and then all hell broke loose. Natasha had already picked the locks and started to fight. It took them forty-seven seconds and all men were dead save for one. This guy was unconscious and Natasha saluted in Clint’s direction with a smirk before she hunkered down and tied him up. 

“You’re welcome,” Clint said in his comm, rose and left his perch. A minute later he met her in front of the building. 

“Hey, babe,” Clint grinned when he saw Natasha. “You had fun?” 

“It’s amazing how much they tell you when they have you tied up,” she said and shook her head. But when Clint was close she grabbed his hand, pulled him over and kissed him. 

“Not everyone can do what you can do,” Clint murmured and wrapped his arms around her waist. Someone cleared their throat behind them and both turned around, saw Coulson stand there, wearing his shades and smiling that bland smile 

“If you two are done, we could send in the agents to clean up and I can debrief you two,” he said. 

“And then they can get a room,” Jasper muttered behind him, passed him and went to the building Natasha was in mere minutes ago. 

“What? Are you jealous, Jasper?” Clint grinned and when the man blushed and hurried away he chuckled. 

“Okay,” Natasha said then with a sigh. “Let’s get this over with, someone here owes me a massage.” 

And Clint put his arm around her waist, kissed her temple and added, “Or more.”


	20. “I might play with you a little longer after you’ve talked. You’re too cute.” - Clint Barton/Phil Coulson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I might play with you a little longer after you’ve talked. You’re too cute.” Can we get phlint with this one?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: torture/non-con implied

“Bring him to my room,” Phil said with a gentle smile on his lips. The two SHIELD agents shared a glance but then they grabbed the arms of the prisoner and led him away. 

For months Phil hunted this man, followed him not only through half of America but also through a good part of Europe and Asia. He finally caught him in Mexico and his personal Strike team - Natasha Romanoff and Brock Rumlow - brought him back to Washington, to the Triskelion. 

“Good job, agents,” Phil said when the two watched the prisoner being led away. They knew what would happen but they didn’t care. Hawkeye was dangerous and he brought it on himself that he was locked up now. He had obstructed more than one of Phil’s plans but now they had him here and Phil had plans with him. He would join SHIELD or they would bury him in the raft for the rest of his life. 

When he entered his room he found the young man tied to a chair. His arms were secured to the armrests and his legs to the chair’s legs. The agents had added a belt around his middle so he couldn’t rise. 

Phil sat down on a chair, too. They were separated by a small table and he placed the thick file he had collected between the two of them. 

“Clinton Francis Barton, born in Iowa, orphaned with six years. Four orphanages and multiple foster homes later you ran away and joined the circus, where you learned to shoot a bow and became ‘world's greatest marksman’,” he summarized. “You left the circus after a quarrel with your brother and your mentor and disappeared as if earth had swallowed you up. And then, five years ago, I heard from a marksman who never missed his mark, who interfered in more than one of my missions, who took out my agents and who pestered not only SHIELD but also our associates.” 

“So,” the tied man smirked. “You know who I am. And who are you?” 

“Coulson,” Phil said. “Philip J. Coulson. Senior Agent of SHIELD.” 

The captive raised a brow. “Never heard of you,” he said. And Phil smiled again.

“That’s the general idea,” he said. 

“And what happens now?” The man tried to move in his chair but his bonds held him. 

“Now, Mr. Barton, you tell me who your allies are,” Phil said. He reached in the inside pocket of his jacket, took the pen he had there and placed it on the table. 

The captive snorted. “Who says I have allies?” 

Phil pursed his lips and took a piece of paper out of the file. He turned it around and shoved it over to his prisoner to take a look. “The arrowhead you used is Stark Tech. But Tony Stark doesn’t sell weapons anymore.” Phil pointed at the paper. “How did you get Stark Tech?” 

The captive took a deep breath and cocked his head. “I found it on Ebay?” 

“Funny,” Phil smiled. He rose and went to the cupboard he had in his room, opened it with a key from his keychain and let his prisoner take a look at all his equipment he had in there. He turned around, removed his jacket, loosened his tie and removed it, too, before he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. “Don’t worry, Mr. Barton. You’re going to tell me what I want to know. Maybe it takes some time, but you will talk.” 

“Yeah, no,” the captive shook his head. “I don’t think so.” 

Phil chuckled and took out a pair of pliers, scrutinized them and turned back to his captive. 

“I might play with you a little longer after you’ve talked, Mr. Barton,” he said and let his hand trail over the captive’s shoulder. With a cruel smile he added, “You’re too cute.”


	21. “You’re tough. But I’ll break you.” - Clint Barton/Loki, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanoff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [tessene](http://tessene.tumblr.com/) requested:   
>  Please please please can you do: “You’re tough. But I’ll break you.” with frosthawk? I love your scenes <3 
> 
> and Anonymous asked for:  
> “You’re tough. But I’ll break you.” -> with frosthawk pretty please? :)

“Clint, I…” Natasha started but when she saw him she blurted, “Oh my god, you look like shit.” 

“Thank you very much,” he said but clutched his mug closer to his chest. Natasha put the briefcase down and went over to him, sat down beside him on his couch. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked and Clint turned his head for a moment, looked at her, before he took a long sip of his coffee. 

“Nothing,” he mumbled. “Everything’s fine.” 

“Nightmares again?” She cocked her head and turned to him. Clint took a deep breath and wiped his face with his empty hand before he shrugged. “How long?” 

He sighed, licked his lips. “Tuesday,” he said then. 

“Clint, that’s more than 72 hours!” 

He shrugged again. “I don’t…. I can’t… I just can’t…” He wanted to take a sip from his mug but Natasha reached over and took it out of his hands. 

“Come on, you need to sleep,” she said and rose. She took his hand and pulled. “Come with me.” 

“Nat, please…” he almost pleaded. “I… I can’t.” 

“I’ll stay with you,” she said. “You’re not alone.” 

“Nat,” this time he pleaded. “Please…” But Natasha didn’t let go and so he gave in. He was too tired to fight, even if he knew what would happen. 

Natasha went with him and he followed her, sat down on the bed when she said it and he even held his hand out when she offered him a sleeping pill. He knew they wouldn’t help but how could he explain to someone that his nightmares were different. He swallowed the pill she gave him, laid down and closed his eyes when he felt her beside him. She put her arm around his waist and held him. And Clint felt himself drift asleep…

_”So, you’re back,” the trickster said. Clint groaned and struggled against the chains around his wrists. He was always in chains in his dreams, always in a cold, dark room… always with him, Loki. It was cold, so cold and the chains hurt._

_His touch was cold, his fingers on Clint’s skin unpleasant, almost painful. He glared at the man._

_“Why can’t you just let me go?” he whispered and pulled at the chains, felt the blood trickle over his skin._

_“Because you’re mine. You think that little tap on your head freed you?” Loki chuckled and touched Clint’s stomach, the coldness of his fingers seeped in his skin and it hurt. “I will break you,” he whispered in Clint’s ear. “Yes, you’re tough, but I’ll break you.”_

_“No!” Clint yanked on his chains, felt more blood on his wrists. “I will not let that happen.”_

_Loki grabbed the back of his neck, pushed him down onto the ground, held his neck and let his hands trail over Clint’s body._

_“You’re mine! I will do to you whatever I want!” He cupped Clint’s genitals with his hand and Clint tried to get away, struggled, fought… and lost. Loki squeezed his cock, his balls and pain shot through his body. “There’s nothing you can do!”_

_“Please…”_

“Clint!” Natasha shook him, “Clint, come on!” 

He startled awake and looked around, his eyes wide and he checked his wrists. They were unharmed, even if they still hurt. “I’m here,” Natasha said. “I have you.” 

Clint nodded. He could still feel Loki’s hand on his body, on his dick and he knew, he knew what would happen the next time he was there, the next time…

“I have you,” Natasha repeated. “Everything will be okay. It just takes time.” 

“I know,” he said even if he knew that it wouldn’t.


	22. “You idiot! You dumbass! You- you fucking moron!”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You idiot! You dumbass! You- you fucking moron!” With Barney?

Clint was six years old when two police officers knocked at their door. Barney opened and Clint was behind him, held his hand when the officers told them that their parents were dead. They took them away and brought them to an orphanage. It was awful. Clint hated it there. Sure, no one beat them to a bloody pulp because they were too drunk but there were too many children and not enough food, not enough blankets and the nuns weren’t nice. They always wanted them to go to the church and they told them that they all would go to hell for being bad children. 

Sometimes they were sent to people to live with them and Clint couldn’t decide if it was better or worse. Until they sent them to the Johnsons. The Johnsons were really nice but Barney hated them. Clint had no idea why, they tried their best to be nice to Barney, too, but Barney didn’t like them. 

“We’re running away,” he said one evening. Clint sat in his - his! - bed and clutched a cushion to his chest. Barney just came into his room, a rucksack over his shoulder and he wore shoes and jacket. 

“No,” Clint breathed. Mrs. Johnson was so nice to him, she had bought him new clothes and a rucksack for school. She made cookies and her food was so tasty. She helped him with the homework and practiced ASL with him. She even gave him a plushie, a dog, when he had nightmares. 

“They try to bribe you with all the stuff,” Barney said. “We’re running away.” 

“But Barney,” Clint said. “They are so nice.” 

“You idiot! You dumbass, you fucking moron! They hate me and they try to drive a wedge between us, don’t you see that?” Barney snarled. Clint shook his head. 

“But Mrs. Johnson said that…” He started but Barney interrupted him.

“What? That they would keep you? That you’re going to be a family?” 

Clint looked at his hands and nodded. “Yes,” he admitted. 

“ _We_ are a family,” Barney hissed. “ _They_ are just strangers who get money for keeping us.” 

“But Barney…” 

“You have to decide, Clint,” Barney said. “You can come with me, your brother and your real family, or you can stay with strangers who only keep you for the money.” 

Clint bit his lip. 

“But mind, if you stay you will probably never see me again.” 

“But Barney,” Clint tried again. “I…” 

“Okay, I go alone,” Barnes snapped. He turned around and wanted to leave when Clint hurried out of the bed.

“Wait!” He called. Barney shushed him angrily and Clint whispered. “Wait, I… I come with you.” Barney nodded and as fast as possible Clint put on some clothes, put some in his new rucksack. He deliberated for a moment but then he left the plushie dog on the bed. Together with Barney he climbed out of the window and they ran down to the street. 

On the corner of the street Clint stopped and looked over his shoulder, at the house he had just left. He bit his lip. He could still go back, could climb back into his room and go into his bed but then Barney tugged at his arm. 

“Clint, come on,” he said and Clint nodded. 

“Yes, I’m coming.”


	23. “You’re absolutely useless, aren’t you?!” (1/2) - Clint Barton/Bucky Barnes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re absolutely useless, aren’t you?!” for winterhawk?

James looked at his watch for the third time in the last five minutes. His contact should be here already. He hated it when people were late. He looked around the bar, looked at the people here. It was an unparalleled shithole. All the people here - himself included - were lowlife. Thugs, assassins, hitmen, thiefs, hijacker, crooked cops, whatever you can come up with. The owner was a former mercenary who lost his arm when he placed a bomb in a police station in Guatemala. Add some prostitutes - young girls and boys, barely legal - and the cauldron was complete. 

Once again James looked at his watch and the man was still not here. With an angry huff he rose and threw a few bills on the table. No one would take the money but the waitress, he knew that. 

He would leave. When his contact couldn’t be punctual, he would have to find someone else. On his way out of the bar he went to the restroom. He wanted to wash his hands. He always felt dirty here. 

But just when he had switched on the water, he heard a fist connect with a body and a cry. It sounded as if someone got beaten up in the backyard. Usually James would ignore it, but the voice of the beaten up person sounded very young. When there was something he hated even more than unreliability then it was when kids got beaten. He dried his hands and went to the backdoor where he saw three grown up men beating a teenager to a pulp. The boy lay on the ground, covered his head and cried in pain.

“You are completely useless, aren’t you?” One of the men spat and kicked the boy in his stomach. But just when he wanted to kick him again, James was on him, grabbed him at the shoulder and spun him around. Before the man could say a word, James had planted his artificial fist in his face and he could hear his jaw and his nose break. The two other men turned to him now but before they could even land a blow, James had knocked them out, too. 

The boy lay on the floor, whimpering, and when James hunkered down beside him he shrank back. 

“Shhh, I won’t hurt you,” he said quietly but it seemed as if the boy didn’t hear him. James touched his shoulder gently and the boy spun around, stared at him with wide eyes. He raised both hands and repeated, “I won’t hurt you.” 

The boy’s eyes twitched and James realized, that he stared at his lips. “Are you deaf?” He asked and signed his question at the same moment. “I won’t hurt you,” he said and signed again. 

James held his hand out and after a very long moment, the boy took it. He lifted him up and held him, when he swayed. “What happened here?” He asked and signed. 

‘They were angry because I refused to kill someone,’ the boy signed. So yes, deaf, maybe even mute. 

“You should kill someone?” James asked baffled. The boy looked as if he was sixteen at most. 

‘I refused because he didn’t deserve it,’ the boy signed. James scrutinized him. Something was really odd with him. The boy looked around, saw a long, black case and limped to it. Carefully he opened it and James saw a bow in it. James’s brain screeched to a halt. He touched the boy’s shoulder and when he looked at him again, he asked and signed, “Is that your bow?” 

The boy nodded and scratched the back of his neck, winced in pain and nodded again. James blinked a few times. He had heard from a hitman with a bow and people said he never missed. 

“Hawkeye?” he asked and after another long moment the boy nodded. “How old are you?” he blurted. 

‘Nineteen,’ Hawkeye signed. 

“I think we should get you patched up,” he said and signed. “And then we should talk about a job.” 

‘A job? What job?’ Hawkeye wanted to know and frowned. James smiled a bit. 

“A job… or better a partnership,” he said. “My name is James, friends call me Bucky, my employers Winter Soldier.” The boy’s eyes went comically wide. In their line of business everyone had heard from the Winter Soldier. But James had heard from Hawkeye, too. People said he never misses. Never. And he could need someone with his talent on his side. He held his hand out for the boy to take it and he did. 

With a smile and a slightly shaky voice he said, “Clint.” And then he smiled.


	24. “You’re absolutely useless, aren’t you?!” (2/2) - Clint Barton & Loki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re absolutely useless, aren’t you?!” Because apparently, I love pain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continued from [this](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12442548/chapters/30252309) chapter

“You’re absolutely useless, aren’t you?” Loki snarled and hit Clint in his face. He slumped down to the ground and the men holding his arms had to adjust their stance to not let go of him. 

“I told you, I wouldn’t help you,” Clint wheezed. His face hurt and he could taste blood. Maybe his lip was split, he couldn’t feel anything particular at the moment because everything was pain.

“And I told you, you would regret that,” Loki said. His voice changed from angry to suave in an instant. “I took Agent Romanov, I can take so much more from you.” 

“Really? What? My freedom? You have that already. My life? You can have it,” Clint mocked. 

“No, my pet, I won’t kill you,” Loki said almost happily. He hunkered down to be at eye level with Clint. “But I know what the soldier means to you. What would you think about a little tap with the… what did you call it? The glowstick of destiny… a little tap and then I point at him,” he said. 

Clint paled. Until now Loki never had mentioned the scepter and Clint had thought that it was destroyed. But apparently…The scepter appeared in Loki’s hand and Clint’s eyes went wide.

“No,” he breathed. He could take the torture, the pain and all that, but not to have himself ripped out of his head and let that take over again only to be forced to kill Bucky. 

“Get up,” Loki commanded and the men, who still held his arms, pulled him up. “Don’t forget one thing, my pet,” he said calmly. “You belong to me, you gave yourself to me willingly.” 

“Only to save Nat but then you killed her,” Clint spat. 

“You gave me your word,” Loki smiled. “And your word is binding.” 

“Yeah? What if I lied?” Clint hissed. Loki looked at him for a long moment, before he burst into laughter. 

“You’re mine, Clint,” he said and to hear his name out of Loki’s mouth was even more terrifying than his usual ‘pet’. “You belong to me, mind, body and soul and you do what I want, when I say it. Next time you disobey me, you’re going to kill the soldier and if that doesn’t work, then I’m going to take your eyes and you’ll be my pretty bed warmer. Do you understand?” 

Clint closed his eyes but he nodded. “Yes,” he whispered, barely audible. 

“Say it, my pet, whom do you belong to?” 

Clint swallowed hard around the lump in his throat. He knew if he would say it, it would be final but… what options did he have? He already lost one of the two people he loved, he couldn’t risk another one. “You,” he said. “I belong to you.”


	25. “What the fuck have you done this time!” - Clint Barton & Phil Coulson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What the fuck have you done this time!” A previous handler to Clint after a mission gone wrong?

“Fuck you!” Clint screamed. “Fuck you and Shield and all your regulations! I’m outta here!” 

He turned on his heels and stormed out of the conference room, bumped into someone wearing a black leather coat, hissed something unintelligible and slammed the door shut behind himself. But only a moment the door went open again and Evan, his handler, yelled after him. 

“Barton! Get back in here!” 

Clint turned around, walked a few steps backwards and flipped him the bird. “Fuck you!” 

The man in the leather coat came out again, looked after him, too, and Clint saw that he was a huge black guy with an eyepatch. 

“Agent Barton!” the man called as well but Clint just snorted. 

“I quit!” 

He left the building, mounted his bike and drove away. He stopped at the next bar, parked his bike and went in, ordered Vodka and took a seat at the bar. He chugged the first few glasses in only a few moments. 

“Are you sure?” The barkeeper asked when Clint ordered the next shot. 

“I just quit!” he said. “Give me booze.” The barkeeper took a deep breath, shrugged and refilled the glass. And Clint emptied it. 

A man in a perfectly pressed suit sat down beside him, folded his hands in front of him on the bar and when the barkeeper looked in his direction he ordered a glass of wine. 

“What do you want, Coulson?” Clint slurred. 

“That’s Agent Coulson,” the man said and took a small sip of wine. 

“I quit, didn’t they tell you?” Clint sighed. He waved at the barkeeper to refill his glass but Coulson shook his head and the man shrugged and left. “What the fuck?” 

“You can’t quit, Agent Barton,” Coulson said. “The deal was you work for us or you go to jail.” 

“Then put me to jail, for fuck’s sake!” Clint snapped. A few of the other patrons looked in his direction. “I just can’t work with Evan. He’s a futzing idiot.” 

“What’s the problem?” Coulson wanted to know.

“This idiot has no idea what he does, that’s the problem!” Clint hissed. “I know what I’m capable of and I know better than him from where I can hit my marks. He’s no sniper and he wears glasses for crying out loud! He has not the slightest idea how my eyes work and yet, whenever I swap my perch for a better angle he yells at me. I know what I can do, Coulson, and you also know it!” He talked himself into a rage and gestured with his hands. “And one time, one futzing time something goes awry he yells at me,” Clint snarled and pointed at his chest. “What the fuck have you done this time?” Clint imitated Evan’s nasal voice. “If that asshat would’ve used his brain for three futzing seconds the plan would’ve worked! But this idiot has no idea what he does and… I can’t work with him so, go on, bring me to jail! That’s my last word!” 

“I know, Agent Barton,” Coulson said. “And Deputy Director Fury knows, too. He just degraded Evan and transferred him to office duty. You, Agent Barton, work for me now.” 

“I… what?” Clint stared at him open-mouthed. Agent Coulson was a legend within Shield, he reported only to Director Carter and all the agents said he picked only the best of the best. “Is that a joke?” 

Coulson shook his head. “Rumor says that I don’t even know what humor is,” he said, a tiny twinkle in his eyes. He took a deep breath, took another sip from his wine glass, reached for his wallet and gave the barkeeper a few bills before he rose. He patted Clint’s shoulder with a tiny smile. “See you Monday morning in my office.” 

Clint looked at him for a long moment. “Yes, sir.”


	26. “You don’t care about anyone but yourself!” - Clint Barton/Pietro Maximoff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you do the "You don't care about anyone but yourself" prompt with Pietro/Clint please? Thanks!

“Clint!” Wanda yelled as soon as she arrived in the garage. “Where the fuck are you?” Clint stopped trying to loosen a screw and threw the wrench away. He pinched the bridge of his nose but Wanda had heard him and stormed over. 

“Barton!” She snapped. “Get out from under the car!” 

“What do you want,” he asked, forced himself to sound collected even if he was anything but calm. 

“Why do you hide here? Why are you not in the hospital?” Wanda kicked his shin and Clint grabbed the car body and pulled himself out. He sat up and looked at her. “Pietro needs you and you are here and… and… play around with your fucking car!”

“Pietro doesn’t need me,” Clint muttered. He reached for the rag to clean his hand but Wanda ripped it out of his hand and threw it in his face. 

“You don’t care about anyone but yourself!” She snarled. “Pietro is hurt because he wanted to help you and you…” 

“Yes!” Clint snapped. “Yes, Pietro is hurt and it’s my fault! That’s the reason why I’m here and not…” 

“What?” Wanda glared at him disbelievingly. 

“He’s better off without me. It’s the second time he’s…” He stopped, pressed his lips tight together and eventually rose. “When he’s out of surgery I’ll tell him.” 

“Oh no! No, no, no, no, no!” Wanda followed him and grabbed his arm. “You don’t get away this easily!” 

“What? What do you want?” He spun around and towered over her. “When… when we started dating you were dead against it. And now, when I see it your way you’re angry again… what the fuck do you want?” He threw his hands in the air in frustration. “What do you want?” 

“I want you to move your cowardly ass over to the hospital where you sit beside Pietro’s bed and hold his hand. And I want you to tell him that everything will be better, do you get me?” She hissed. “I want you to help him through recovery because for reasons I don’t understand he still loves you!” 

“I…” Clint started, but he had no idea what he should say. 

“You’re not going to tell me that you don’t love him anymore,” she hissed and pressed her finger in his chest and scrutinized him thoroughly. 

“What? I love him more than… more than everything. I just think he’s better off without me,” Clint said.

“Move. Your. Ass. Over. To. Him. Or. I. Drag. You. There.” Wanda pressed through her teeth. “He needs you and I swear to god…” 

Clint sat down on the ground. “I’m not good for him,” he whispered. 

“He loves you, and you love him. And now that he needs you, you want to throw him away?” 

“No! No, that’s the last thing I want,” he said. 

“Then go! Go to Pietro. He needs you,” Wanda hunkered down in front of him. “Go to him.” Clint looked at her for a very long moment, before he nodded.

“Okay.” 

“Barton?” He looked at Wanda and she raised a brow. 

“If you break his heart I’ll break you,” she said. 

“I know.”


	27. “You’re not human! You’re a monster!” - Clint Barton/Laura Barton

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re not human! You’re a monster!” Clint/Laura

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: serial killer Clint, decapitating (mentioned)

When Laura moved in with Clint on his farm there was one rule, no one enters the southern barn. He said, he needed a place just for himself, his man cave. A place where he could keep his bows and weapons, where he could build his trick arrows and all that and a place where he could unwind after an especially strenuous SHIELD mission. It was always locked and with the kids and Clint’s weapons it was safer that way. And Laura always respected it… until a tornado brushed the barn. It wasn’t entirely destroyed, just one of the walls and most of the roof was missing. 

Laura was concerned. She had two small children here and she should make sure that they couldn’t hurt themselves with something in it. 

“You stay here,” she said to them, “I have to take a look what happened to daddy’s barn.” 

“Okay,” Cooper said and took Lila’s hand. They were still shocked that the tornado didn’t hit their house, they all had expected the worst. 

Laura hurried over to Clint’s barn and went around to the missing wall. Clint’s weapons locker lay on the ground but it was still locked. His tools on the other hand lay everywhere and god knew what was missing. She just wanted to turn around when she saw a freezer. Why on earth did he have a freezer in his man cave? Laura deliberated for a very long moment but then she went over. It wasn’t locked and Laura opened it… and then she screamed. 

“Mom! Mom!” Cooper and Lila came out of the house and wanted to run over to the barn, but Laura could stop them before they could see what Clint had in his freezer. 

“Stay in the house!” she called and both children stopped dead in their tracks. “Get… get back in the house,” she pointed at the door and after a long moment they nodded and went back. This couldn’t be real, this had to be a nightmare. With shaking hands she reached for her phone and sent a text to Clint. **Come home ASAP!**

***

Laura had called her neighbor and told her that she needed someone to look after the children, she said it wasn’t safe here because the tornado had destroyed stuff and her neighbor agreed. She had brought them to her and now she waited for Clint. She sat in her kitchen, stared at her hands and wondered why she never noticed anything. She didn’t even bother with switching on the light when the sun set, she just sat there, starred in the darkness and waited. And then she could hear his truck.

“Why are you sitting in the darkness?” Was his first question. His second was, “Is something with the children? Are they hurt?” He switched on the light and looked at her, saw her expression and swallowed. “What’s wrong, Laura?” 

“You… you are wrong!” She snapped. “You’re not human, you’re a monster!” she yelled at him. She just couldn’t help herself. His worried expression made her nauseous. 

“What… what are you talking about?” He made a step in her direction, but a glare from Laura stopped her. 

“The tornado,” she said. “It destroyed half of your man cave. I wanted to make sure that there’s nothing the kids could hurt themselves with.” She looked up now, looked in his eyes and saw him grit his teeth. “I found your…” she gestured with her finger, searching for a word, “collection,” she said then. 

Clint took a deep breath and sat down. “They all deserved it,” he said quietly. 

“They… they deserved it? You have human heads in plastic bags in your freezer and the only thing you have to say is they deserved it?” 

“Rapists, child molesters, men who beat their wives and children… every single one deserved it. Every single one of them was brought to court and every single one of them got acquitted of a charge. _They_ were monsters and I… I just… I couldn’t let them get away with it,” he said. 

“I’m going to call the cops,” she said. Clint looked up.

“SHIELD knows,” he said then. Laura scrutinized him, shook her head and rose. 

“I’m going to get my stuff and leave this house, together with Cooper and Lila. You will never see them again. If you dare to get close to them ever again, I will go public. Maybe SHIELD will cover you, but I’m pretty sure people won’t accept a hero who’s secretly a serial killer. Do you get me?” Her voice was astoundingly very calm and icy and Clint nodded after a moment. 

“I’m sorry,” he said but Laura only shook her head. 

“No, I’m sorry for ever getting involved with you.”


	28. “You’re a disgusting little rat!” - Clint Barton & Barney Barton

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re a disgusting little rat!” Last few days in the circus?

Clint was a star. Or so he thought. He was headliner in Carson’s for half a year now and he really thought he was a star, a circus star at least. People loved him when he came in the ring, when he shot arrow after arrow and always hit dead center, when they blindfolded him and he still hit his mark and when he literally folded himself in half and shot with his feet. Yes, Clint was a star. 

“I need your help,” Barney said one afternoon. He was seventeen and Barney twenty-one. 

“My help?” Clint asked. He had just finished his act and entered their trailer to change. He looked up and saw Barney sitting at the table, smoking a cigarette. 

“Yes, your help,” he said. 

“Uhm… and what do you need?” Clint threw the glittering pants onto his bunk and put on some comfortable sweats. 

“I made a mistake,” Barney said. “I… I lost some money and now… they want it back?” 

“They?” Clint frowned. He put on a clean shirt and then fumbled with his socks. 

“Some… guys. Powerful guys,” he said. 

“What can I do?” Clint asked. Barney wiped over his face with his hand and sighed. 

“Jacques and Buck, they have an idea,” Barney said. 

“Oh, okay,” Clint sat down. “And where do I get into the game?” 

“We need your unique talent,” Barney said, “and your bow.” 

“What?” Clint blurted. 

“I’ll explain it to you,” Barney said. And then he did. They wanted to rob the circus.

“No,” he shook his head when he finished. He jumped up from his chair and shook his head again. “No, absolutely not!” 

“Clint, you have to understand…” Barney started but he cut him short with a harsh gesture. 

“I will not, under no circumstances, let that happen,” he said and went to the door of the trailer to go to Carson to tell him but he got stopped when he saw two men outside. Jacques and Buck. They grinned at him but when they saw Barney, their grins fell. 

“What the…” they started. Barney grabbed Clint at his shirt and pulled him back, he fell on one of the bunks and his brother left the trailer. And he locked it. 

Clint rose, pulled at the handle but it didn’t open. He tried the doors but somehow Barney had managed to block them, too. They would rob the circus and then he, Clint, would lose his home again. He would be a nobody again. 

The window! It was small but he had trained with the contortionists and he knew he could get through it. He opened it, threw his bow and quiver out and climbed through it only a moment later. He knew where he would find them, seventeen wagon. It was parked at the side of the back yard, right behind the red wagon. He nocked an arrow and hurried over to the wagon where they had the safe, where they usually got their paychecks. 

The door was open, the lock broken and he could hear them. He sneaked to the trailer and just wanted to look inside when he felt something hard collide with his head. He cried out in pain. 

“You’re a disgusting little rat,” his brother stepped over him and turned him around with his shoe. Clint tried to get his bow but Buck came out of the red wagon and shoved it away. 

“You can’t steal the money,” Clint said. 

“We can and we just do it,” Buck laughed. Jacques came out, too, a bag over his shoulder. 

“Let’s go,” he said with his french accent. “We have what we want.” 

“What about him?” Buck asked, and Jacques shrugged. 

“Finish it,” he said. Barney stopped for a moment but Clint was on his feet again, and tried to stop them from walking away. Barney turned around, a knife in his hand just the moment when Clint grabbed him. And then there was pain. Hot, searing pain in his stomach. He stumbled backwards, stared disbelievingly at the knife in his stomach. 

“Barney,” he breathed and fell on his knees. 

“Come on, move,” Buck said and grabbed Barney’s arm. The three men ran away and Clint looked after them, pain almost overwhelming him. He could feel the wetness on his hands - his own blood - and everything hurt, hurt, hurt. He heard faint voices, someone called for an ambulance. And then everything went dark.


	29. “It’s all your fault!” - Clint Barton & Carson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My gosh! I loved that last one with Clint in the circus! Can we get a continuation of it with Carson/the other circus members saying, “It’s all your fault!” about the fact that Clint couldn't stop them from stealing the money?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continued from Chapter 28

Pain. Everywhere. 

“Shh, it’s okay,” someone murmured. “You’re safe.” 

Clint groaned and tried to open his eyes. It hurt. The light was too bright. He squeezed them shut again. 

“Wait,” he heard a beeping sound and the pain started to fade. He opened his eyes again. He was alive and… in a hospital? A woman stood beside him, smiled and pressed a button on a machine beside his bed again. “Better?” 

He nodded slowly. 

“You’re in St. Francis Medical Center,” she said. “How do you feel?” 

“Hurts,” Clint said. “What happened?” 

“You don’t know?” the nurse asked and he shook his head. 

“No,” he admitted. “Everything…” he shook his head again. 

“You got stabbed and left for dead,” she said. 

“How…” he asked. 

“An anonymous phone call. The paramedics found you barely alive and you went to surgery immediately,” she said. And then, “Someone’s here for you.” 

“Who?” Clint frowned. The nurse checked some of the machines beside his bed. 

“An older man,” she said. “He said he’s your ringmaster, whatever that means.” 

“Circus,” he mumbled. 

“Oh, well, that makes sense,” she smiled. “Do you want to see him?” Clint nodded. The nurse patted his shoulder and left the room. Clint closed his eyes. His body hurt and he tried to touch his stomach but there was a bandage over it. He just fumbled with the bandage when the door went open and Carson came in. 

The older man sat down beside him and looked at him. 

“How do you feel?” He asked and Clint tried to shrug and then he groaned because it hurt. 

“Not really good,” Clint said. Carson nodded and looked away for a moment. 

“There’s no point in beating around the bush, Clint,” he said. “We took care of your hospital expenses. You don’t have to worry about that, but,” he stopped and wiped over his face. “We don’t want you to come back to us.” 

“What?” Clint blurted and tried to sit up. He regretted it only a moment later because it hurt. “Why?” 

“Your brother and your two mentors robbed us,” Carson said. “What do you think?” 

“But I tried to stop them,” he said. “It’s not my fault.” 

“It is your fault, it’s all your fault. You shouldn’t have tried to stop them on your own. If you’ve told me or maybe even called the cops…” Carson shook his head. “We could’ve prevented it. They fled with the money we need for the animal food, for the paychecks and for the winter quarter. We have to pay out of the reserve for a long while and…” he looked away again for a moment before he turned back to Clint, “and the others, they say they don’t trust you anymore. They don’t want you around. They say… they say you share the same foul blood with the guy who robbed us. We welcomed you and your brother when you had nowhere to go, you lived with us like family members and this is what we got in return.” 

“Carson, I…” Clint started but the other man stopped him with a raised hand. He rose from the chair beside him and sighed.

“I wish you all the best for your future, Clint.” 

“Carson, please…” 

“I hope you get well soon,” Carson said and went to the door. “Good bye.”


	30. “You’ve fucked up for the last time!” (1/2) - Clint Barton & Team

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’ve fucked up for the last time!” The Avengers team to Clint?

“You’ve fucked up for the last time!” Steve snarled, pissed as fuck. He pressed his arm over Clint’s throat. 

“Steve,” Bruce tried to hold him back but Steve was way too angry. 

This morning - just when they were sparring - an alarm went off and all the Avengers ran to suit up and get in the quinjet. It sounded like something not too difficult to fix. But they were wrong. 

No one expected Loki to appear. Thor had said he was on Asgard and he wouldn’t be able to leave. But apparently he was wrong. Loki was here and when he saw Clint an evil grin appeared on his face. Clint didn’t, couldn’t, saw him coming. Suddenly he was behind him and touched Clint’s temples with his fingers and Clint’s world turned blue again. 

He saw himself shoot, shoot at people, shoot at his friends, shoot at cops, at soldiers, at agents… and kill them. Until Tony managed to knock him down, until they hit him so hard that Loki’s influence slipped away again. They had arrested him and locked him in a cell where he sat for hours.

And then they came. Steve was so angry and Thor had to hold back Tony from shooting him on sight. 

“Do you know how many people you’ve killed? Do you know…” Tony hissed. He stood behind Steve and Thor held his arm. 

“Whom?” Clint wheezed. He could feel tears run over his face. 

“You killed Maria!” Steve threw in his face. “You shot an arrow through her throat and she bled out on the concrete.” 

Everything went black around him. Maria was dead. Maria was dead. He had killed Maria. Maria was dead because of him. “No!” he breathed. 

“Natasha is in surgery and the doctors said they don’t know if she’ll survive and…” Tony added. 

“No!” Clint shook his head violently. 

“This was the last time you had the chance to fuck it up,” Steve spat. Clint thought he would kill him the next moment but then he hit the wall beside his head. He spun on his heels and together with the rest of the team they left his cell. And the door slamming shut behind them was final.


	31. “You’ve fucked up for the last time!” (2/2) - Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [azul-ora](http://azul-ora.tumblr.com/) requested:  
>  May I request “You’ve fucked up for the last time!” for the 'torture my character' sentence meme ; something along the lines of Clint opening up to Natasha about his father's treatment of him as a child (maybe the first time Clint became deaf?) and Natasha being a Good Bro (purely platonic)? I love your writing <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: child abuse, violence against a child

“Tell me something about you that no one knows,” Natasha said and leaned back. 

Clint looked at her for a very long moment and nodded slowly. He reached for the cup of coffee and took a sip. Slowly he put it back on the table between them. Today was the first time SHIELD had let her leave the facility after recruiting her. But only, if someone was with her, and since Clint had recruited her, he had offered to accompany her. And he had to admit he really liked her. 

They went to a diner to get some food and Clint wanted to show her around a bit, wanted to show her the places he liked. 

“What do you want to know?” he asked and Natasha shrugged. 

“I don’t know. Something you never told someone.” 

“Why?” Clint asked and took another sip from his coffee. 

“To get to know you. I told you about the red room. Tell me something about you,” she said and slowly stirred in her mug. 

“My father hated me,” he said after a while. “My mom said he started to drink when I was born. She said… she said he was scared about… about my eyes.” 

Natasha looked at them. All the people he met looked at his eyes. They were tricolored and it seemed as if he could look in people’s souls. 

“He… he hated me. And when his butcher’s shop went broke he blamed me. He said, people were scared of me and it was my fault that no one came. So he drank even more, he started to beat my mom and my brother and me,” Clint said. “I was scared of him. When he came home from the pub I hid in the closet and I was so glad when I could go to school, a few hours I didn’t have to see him. But when we came home… One day, when school was over and me and my brother came home, he just wanted to drive away. We walked up the driveway, he came down, he barely saw us and jerked the wheel violently and hit a tree.” 

Clint stopped and worked his jaw for a moment. But then he licked his lips and continued, “He was more than angry when he came out of the goddamn car. My brother ran away but I wasn’t fast enough. He grabbed my arm and…” He looked up at Nat now. “The last thing I heard with my own ears was his voice. ‘You fucked up for the last time!’ he shouted and then he hit me so hard I lost eighty percent of my hearing.” 

Natasha listened concentrated and every now and then took a sip from her mug. 

“Is he still alive?” she asked casually and Clint shook his head. 

“No,” he said. “A few weeks later he killed himself and my mom in a car crash. He was drunk as fuck.” 

Natasha nodded slowly and she seemed a little bit disappointed. “I would kill him for you,” she said after a while. Clint couldn’t hold back a smile. 

“I know,” he said and nodded. Natasha held his eyes, didn’t look away like most people did. She reached over the table, took his hand and squeezed it gently for a few seconds. 

“Okay,” she said then. “What about that awesome ice cream shop you talked about?” 

“Let’s go,” he said and put some money on the table. “You’ll love it!”


	32. “What, can’t take a punch?” (1/2) - Clint Barton/Bucky Barnes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [bandersnatch-cumberdict](http://bandersnatch-cumberdict.tumblr.com/) requested:   
>  “What, can’t take a punch?” and Winterhawk please and thank you <3

Bucky realized that he had underestimated Clint. A few weeks ago Steve had found him, had convinced him to come with him to the Avengers HQ where he had met the other Avengers. 

Somehow Natasha looked familiar, maybe he had met her but he couldn’t remember when and where. The others… Tony looked like his father, even if he denied it as soon as he had said it. Bruce stayed most of his time either in his lab or in a mediation room Tony had built for him, he tried to avoid Sam because he didn’t seem to like him and Thor was too loud for Bucky’s peace of mind. And then there was Clint, a walking human disaster, who always had a band aid or a bandage somewhere on him and who could only function with gallons of coffee in his system. Sure, he was a good shot, but otherwise… Bucky wondered why they kept him around. Probably not because he was cute. There had to be more.

This morning he had seen him scuffle into the kitchen, drink his coffee piping hot and straight out of the pot. He looked more dead than alive and Bucky wasn’t sure he even realized that he sat on a chair at the breakfast bar, watching him. Wordlessly he had grabbed a protein bar and scuffled out of the kitchen again. 

And that’s why he was so surprised when he went to the gym today and found Clint there. He wore shorts, a sleeveless shirt and boxing gloves and he just hit and kicked a punching bag. And goddammit, that guy fucking knew what he did. Maybe there was another reason why they kept him around. He sat down on one of the benches on the side of the gym and watched him. 

“Wanna sit there the whole day?” Clint asked after half an hour. He removed one of the gloves, wiped his face with a towel and took his bottle to drink. 

“I don’t have therapy today,” he said and shrugged. 

“Wanna spar?” Clint asked and smirked in his direction. Bucky raised a brow but he rose and walked over to him. “Or are you chicken?” 

“I’m what?” Bucky stopped and looked at him confused. 

“I forgot you’re old,” he smirked. “Get scared?” 

Bucky scrutinized him for a moment. “Give me a minute to get dressed.” Clint threw a shit-eating grin in his direction and took another sip from his bottle. Two minutes later Bucky was back, dressed similarly and put on some boxing gloves. He stretched and went with Clint to the ring. The first few moments they danced around each other and then Bucky made his first move… and found himself on his back, staring disbelievingly at Clint. 

He grinned, held his hand out and helped him up. “You okay?” he asked. Bucky glared at him but rose and jumped a few times up and down. 

“Ready,” he said, attacked Clint and actually landed a punch, but then, after a few more kicks and hits he found himself lying on the ground again, holding his head. 

“Bastard,” Bucky muttered and Clint grinned. 

“What, can’t take a punch?” he asked and Bucky rose again. The damn bastard was quick and flexible and he couldn’t believe that it was the same guy who walked like a zombie through the kitchen this morning. 

“Let’s go,” he growled and this time he concentrated, hit, kicked, got hit and kicked and finally managed to bring Clint down to the floor. He straddled his hips and held his arms above his head. And he could feel him breathe hard, could see him lick his lips and a smirk appeared on his own lips. 

“Okay, you got me,” Clint murmured. “And now?” 

Bucky looked at him for a very long moment. “Wanna go for a coffee with me?” He blurted.

“What? Like a date?” Clint asked. He cocked his head. 

“Yeah?” he said but it sounded more like a question. “Only if you like.” Clint nodded slowly. 

“Yeah,” he said then, “yeah, I’d like that.” 

“You… you do?” Bucky burst out and Clint smiled. 

“I like coffee,” he said and when Bucky sat up, “And the company’s okay, too.” 

“Bastard,” Bucky grinned now, he rose and helped Clint up. He bounced up and down a few times. “Ready?” Clint nodded. 

“Let’s go.”


	33. “What, can’t take a punch?” (2/2) - Clint Barton/Thor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What, can’t take a punch?” Hydra with ThunderHawk, please and thank you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continued from chapter 1

“This is… unsettling,” Loki said. He stood beside Thor, his arms folded over his chest, and they both looked at the pacing man inside of the cell. He glared at the two of them whenever he passed them but he refused to talk to them. 

“Can you help him,” Thor asked. His voice was unusual quiet and even Loki realized how upset he was. Apparently he really loved his human. 

“Who did that to him?” Loki asked. He looked at his brother now. 

“A group called Hydra. They are… evil,” he said. “I have spoken to Steve yesterday. Tony found out why they took him.” 

“Why?” Loki asked. He looked back at the man called Hawkeye, the one who had helped him when he attacked Midgard. He had controlled him with the scepter, but he had no clue what these people did to him. 

“Steve freed his friend out of their hands and they wanted him to become their new… Winter Soldier,” Thor said. 

“Did they try to mess with his brain?” Loki’s head snapped around. 

Thor nodded. “Yes, that is what they do.” 

“Odin’s beard,” Loki grumbled. “They have no idea what they have done. The scepter left a trace that can’t be overwritten by humans.” 

Thor whirled around and pressed his forearm over Loki’s throat. “You did what?” 

“It was… to make sure… that no one can take…” he stopped, right now. “It should be a precaution.” 

“A precaution?” Thor hissed.

“Let go of me,” Loki wheezed. “And I’ll see what I can do for him.” 

So you can help him?” Thor asked and made a step back. Loki swallowed a few times and rubbed his throat. 

“If you have the scepter, yes,” he said. 

“We do not have the scepter,” Thor growled. “But I will find it.” He didn’t wait for an answer, he just turned on his heel and stormed out of the room. 

Twenty-six hours later Thor, Tony, Steve, Bruce, Natasha and Bucky were in a small country with the name Sokovia, attacking the Hydra fortress where Clint had been incarcerated days ago. It took them some time to get their shield down but right now Thor was searching through the rooms and caverns of the old fortress. Tony was with him, when a few guys tried to stop them and Thor grinned wildly. The guys startled and stepped back involuntarily and when he raised his fists they dropped their guns.

“What, can’t take a punch?” he mocked them and they ran away screaming. Thor and Tony shared a glance before they entered the room. It was a huge cavern and even he had to stop and look for a moment. A dead Leviathan hung from the ceiling and it was crammed with stuff. 

“Over there,” Tony said and pointed at a table. Thor hurried over, saw the scepter and reached for it. 

“Let’s wrap this up,” Tony said. “But may I suggest that you bring Clint and your brother to our HQ? If Loki plans something…” 

Thor looked at him for a very long moment but then he nodded. “But when he had saved Clint we bring the scepter to Asgard,” he said. 

“Sure,” Tony said. “And now go get your man. We can finish that.” 

“Are you sure?” Thor asked. Tony cocked his head Thor understood. He smiled, nodded and left the fortress. Soon, soon Clint would be his old self and the scepter would be safe in Asgard’s treasure chamber. Soon.


	34. “It’s only a scratch, asshole!” - Clint Barton/Steve Rogers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gosh you AmeriHawk dom/sub fic is slowly killing me (in a good way), so how about “It’s only a scratch, asshole!” for it? Thank you for your fantastic stories!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continued from chapter 14  
> TW: rape, (domestic) violence

“Get in,” Steve snarled. He had grabbed Clint’s arm, dragged him to their shared apartment and slammed the door shut behind him. He shoved Clint so hard that he fell to the ground. On their way out of the living room he had seen the shocked expressions on their teammates faces. They apparently all thought Steve was a nice Dom but Clint knew it better. He had learned the hard way. 

When he tried to rise Steve shoved him again and he hit his head on the small cabinet in the corridor. “What the fuck!” he yelped. 

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” Steve hissed. He pointed his finger threateningly in Clint’s face. “Say it!” 

“What? No, it was an accident!” Clint tried to defend himself. 

“You’re Hawkeye! You never miss and now you want to tell me that you accidentally shot at me?” He pointed at his arm where he had a bandage. 

“It was an accident!” Clint spat now and sat up, tried to rise. “And don’t be a pussy, it’s only a scratch.” Steve backhanded him and Clint fell back onto the ground. “Asshole!” 

“Get up, get in the bedroom,” Steve suddenly sounded very calm. Clint swallowed and licked his lips. 

“No,” he said. He tried to get out of Steve’s reach but he had expected it. He grabbed Clint’s ankle and dragged him through the corridor. Clint tried to get a hold on the door jamb but Steve pulled and he had to let go. “Stop that!” 

When the door fell shut Steve let go of his ankle. 

“Out of your clothes!” Steve commanded and he used the voice. It was hard to resist but after a long moment Clint shook his head. Steve backhanded him again. “Get. Out. Of. Your. Clothes.” 

“No,” Clint managed it a second time. He realized that it was a mistake only a moment later when Steve grabbed the collar of his shirt and ripped it off of his body. His pants followed and Clint struggled when Steve even removed his shoes and socks. He lay on the ground, only in his boxer briefs.”No, fuck, no!” 

“Shut up and get on the bed,” Steve snapped. “Now!” 

“I hate you!” Clint pressed through his teeth but Steve only shrugged.

“I don’t care,” he said. “You belong to me now.” He grabbed Clint and threw him onto the bed. Clint struggled and tried to get away but Steve was stronger, bigger and he was a Dom. 

“No, don’t!” Clint gasped when Steve ripped off the last piece of cloth. “No!” 

“You’re mine,” Steve said and pressed his hands over his head into the mattress. “Don’t you ever forget that,” he hissed and forcefully spread Clint’s legs. 

“Stop!” Clint struggled and tried to get away but when he felt Steve’s dick at his entrance he struggled even more. “No, please!” 

Steve moved his hip and shoved in. “Mine!” Clint screamed.


	35. “I’ll kill you!” - Clint Barton/Phil Coulson, Clint Barton/Steve Rogers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’ll kill you!” Can we get more D/s AmeriHawk with Phil coming back? Please and thank you. ❤️❤️❤️❤️

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continued from chapter 34

Phil closed the door behind himself, went to the chair in front of the desk and sat down. “You wanted to see me?” He asked. 

“Take a seat, Phil,” Fury said and Phil raised a brow. 

“Why am I here?” Phil wanted to know. 

Fury looked at him for a very long moment before he pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“It’s about Captain America,” he said then. “Well, and… and Clint.” 

Phil sat up, straightened his back and frowned. “What’s wrong?” 

“Rogers found out that Clint is a sub and… he claimed him,” Fury said. 

Phil’s expression darkened. 

“He what?” He asked very, very calm and Fury looked away for a moment. 

“Rogers found out that Clint is a sub and… we agreed to keep it secret that you were alive. So I… I…” He looked at Phil and, “I’m sorry.” 

“Fuck, Marcus! How could you let that happen?” Phil snarled. “You know… you know what happened to Clint before!” 

“It was necessary,” Fury said. 

“You’re a bastard, Marcus!” Phil hissed, rose and walked out of the office. 

He went to the garage, grabbed the keys of one SUVs, climbed behind the wheel and drove to Stark Tower. He entered the building, showed the concierge his badge and went to the elevator without stopping. A few minutes later the doors went open and Phil walked onto the communal floor. A mug fell to the ground and shattered. 

“Agent?” Tony asked disbelievingly and came closer. 

“You’re alive?” Bruce, who was in the kitchen, came out and stared at him open mouthed. He wore an apron and glasses and held a kitchen knife in his hand. 

Natasha came out of the nowhere, went to him, pulled him in a tight hug for a long moment, then muttered something in Russian and slapped him. 

Phil rubbed his cheek and looked around. 

“Where’s Clint?” he asked. The three Avengers looked at each other, at the carpet, at the ceiling and at the wall behind him. “Natasha?” 

“Phil,” she said slowly. “You have to know…” 

“Fury told me,” he said. “Where is he?” 

Tony licked his lips. “He lives in Rogers’ apartment now.” Phil nodded and went back to the elevator and pressed the button.

A minute later he stood in front of Steve’s door and knocked. 

“Oh my god, Agent Coulson! You’re alive!” Steve blurted as soon as he saw him. 

“Yes,” Phil said. “It was necessary to keep it secret.” 

“I understand,” Steve nodded. He leaned casually in the door jamb, his arms folded over his chest. “And now you’re well?” He asked. 

“Steve,” Phil interrupted him. “You know why I’m here.” Steve scrutinized him for a moment and his friendly expression turned stony. 

“You can’t see him,” he said. “He’s in his room. I had to punish him.” 

“You what?” Phil asked now and narrowed his eyes a tiny bit. 

“He’s in his room and…” Phil didn’t wait till Steve had finished, he just squeezed past him and went into the apartment, opened the first door, saw the bathroom and went to the second door. And found it locked. “Is Clint in there?” He asked. 

“Phil, I know he’s been yours but…” Steve started and Phil glared up at him. 

“Is. He. In. There?” Phil repeated his question. Steve kept quiet and Phil turned around, raised his foot and kicked in the door. And then he paled. Inside lay Clint on the floor. He had a chain around his neck and it was tied to a ring in the floor. The chain was only a foot long. 

Phil turned around and suddenly had his gun in his hand. He pressed it to Steve’s chin and the super soldier was so taken by surprise that he couldn’t react immediately. Phil had his finger on the trigger and only a tiny move would shoot a huge hole in Steve’s head and not even the super soldier serum could help him survive that. 

“I should pull that trigger and end you right here and now,” he hissed. 

“He’s been insubordinate and defiant and…” Steve started but Phil’s glare let him stop. 

“I’ll tell you what happens now,” he snarled. “You give me the keys and I will take Clint with me. You will go to Director Fury and tell him, that Clint is my sub from now on again. And you will never, never look at him funnily or even talk to him when no one is around. Do you get me? Or I swear to god, Rogers, I’ll kill you!” 

“Phil, I…” 

“Do you understand me!” Phil repeated. And Steve nodded slowly. Carefully he gave Phil the keys and stepped back. Phil went to Clint and unlocked the chain around his neck. 

“Phil?” Clint whispered. “You’re dead…” 

“No, babe, I’m alive and I’ll bring you out of here now,” he said. “You’re safe.” 

“Phil!” Hot tears ran over Clint’s face and as soon as the chains were gone he wrapped his arms around him. 

“I’m here,” he said. “No one will hurt you again.” He looked at Steve, who glared at him. “You’re safe now.”


	36. “Don’t move, or I’ll shoot you!” - Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Don’t move, or I’ll shoot you!” With black widow please?

“You know what to do?” Coulson asked. Clint just buckled his quiver on and nodded.

“Sure,” he said, unfolded his bow with a move of his hand, checked the string and folded it again. He put it in the quiver, too, checked the gun he had in his belt holster. He checked the gun in the ankle holster and all his knives. 

“Ready?” Coulson asked and Clint nodded again.

“Yep,” he said. “You sure she’s here?” 

“Yes, it’s confirmed. She’s in this area,” Coulson said. Clint checked his comm unit and when he could hear the agent in the inconspicuous van at the end of the street. 

“Okay,” Clint nodded once more and then he turned and walked away briskly. And only a few seconds later he blended in with the shadows. 

He found her twenty minutes later. In the meantime Clint was on a roof. He hunkered beside a chimney and watched her run along a street, followed by a bunch of thugs. He knew she could eliminate them easily but she wasn’t alone. A little girl, nine or ten years old, was beside her and held her hand. The girl slowed her down and the thugs could close up to her. Clint followed them on the roofs, held her always in his eyes. 

The guys who followed her pointed their guns at her and she shoved the girl behind herself and raised her own gun. But she was outnumbered. Her left hand lay still on the little girls arm as if to soothe her. Clint blinked once, twice and then he unfolded his bow, nocked an arrow and aimed. One of the men moved his arm and a second later an arrow protruded out of his throat. The man slumped down and all hell broke loose. The Black Widow protected the girl behind her back and shot at the men while Clint covered her from above. It took them about thirty seconds and all the thugs were dead. The little girl cried. 

The woman, known as Black Widow could get away, but she turned around and wrapped her arms around the girl, comforted her, held her. Clint used the fire escape to get down into the alley as well. Black Widow spun around, pointed her gun at him. 

“Don’t move or I’ll shoot you,” she snarled with a thick Russian accent. Clint stopped, raised his hands. 

“My name is Agent Clint Barton, I’m with SHIELD. But some people know me as Hawkeye,” he said and her eyes widened slightly. Of course she had heard this name. In certain circles everyone knew this name. 

“Are you here to kill me?” she asked. Her hand trembled just a tiny, tiny bit but Clint could see it. Of course he could see it. He was Hawkeye. 

“I was sent to kill you,” he said. She moved her trigger finger a millimeter but Clint continued to speak. “But I don’t think it’s the right thing to do. I want you to come with me.” 

“Why?” she asked. Clint shrugged. 

“You deserve a chance,” he said. “And I can give you one.” Clint moved his hand and held it out for her to take it.

The woman looked at her for a very long moment, scrutinized him, tried to assess him… and then she lowered her gun. Clint smiled. 

“Good decision,” he said. “Welcome to SHIELD.”


	37. “I’ll slit your damn throat!” - Clint Barton & Tony Stark, Clint Barton/Laura Barton

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'll slit your throat!" Widower!Clint at Tony maybe?

“Where is he!” Clint screamed and slammed the door open. He looked around the common living area in the new Avengers HQ. Vision stood in the kitchen and tried to cook. 

“Clint,” he said slowly and phased through the counter to come over to him. 

“Stark! Where is he?” Clint stopped to storm through the living area. 

“He’s in his workshop,” Vision said. But then he cocked his head. “Since when are you back in the country?” A few weeks ago Steve had busted his team out of the raft and they hid in Wakanda the first time. Of course, former General and nowadays Secretary of the State Ross swept it under the carpet that his super prison wasn’t as safe as everyone thought and so it was pretty easy for a professional to come back. But what he had found… what he had found…

Clint turned on his heels and hurried to the stairs, he slammed open the door that led to Tony’s workshop when he saw Vision phase through the ceiling behind him. 

“Clint, please,” he started again but Clint still ignored him. He went to the workshop door and tried the handle. It wasn’t locked so he didn’t work on anything classified. 

“Stark!” Clint bellowed as soon as the door slammed against the wall. Tony lay on a creeper under one of his cars. But before he could move Clint was there, grabbed his feet and dragged him out. 

“Hey!” Tony said angry and confused at the same moment. “What…” He started but Clint had grabbed him, had pulled him up and pressed him against the car, his arm over Tony’s throat and a knife in his left hand.

“I’ll slit your damn throat, Stark!” He hissed but before he could move Vision was there and grabbed his arm, squeezed it painfully and Clint let the knife drop after a few moments. “I’ll kill you!” He snarled when Vision dragged him back, away from Tony.

“What the fuck…” Tony croaked and rubbed the spot where Clint’s arm had been mere seconds ago. 

“It’s your fault! You killed them, you asshole!! It’s your damn fault and I’ll end you!! I’ll gut you alive!” He screamed. 

“What are you talking about?” Vision asked now and Clint turned around in his grip. 

“This asshat couldn’t keep his trap shut before he activated the jammer! They knew about my family and… and now they are dead! They are all dead! Shot and burnt in my fucking house!” He screamed. Shocked Vision let go of him and Clint whirled around. “And now I’m going to end him!” 

“They’re not dead,” Tony rasped, his throat still raw where Clint had squeezed it.

“And it will be… what?” Clint turned back to Tony, the wind taken out of his sails. “What did you say?” 

“They’re not dead,” he repeated and looked at Vision. 

“Will you speak already?” Clint snapped but when he moved in Tony’s direction, Vision grabbed his arm again. Tony nodded and Vision let go of Clint again. 

“When I left the raft I realized that I made a mistake,” he said. “I went to your house and talked to Laura and… we faked their death and I brought them to safety. They are safe and sound, all of them.” 

“What?” Clint said. He couldn’t believe it. “I talked to the cops, they said the bodies were identified as Laura and the kids.” 

“Yeah, sure,” Tony nodded. “I hacked their database and changed their results to the results we wanted. Believe me, they are safe. But as long as you’re officially on the run she doesn’t want you to know where they are.” 

“What?” Clint said once more. “They…” he stopped and slumped down to sit on the floor. Tony took a deep breath and hunkered down beside him. 

“It’s better that way,” he said and put a hand on Clint’s arm. “They are okay and no one can harm them, I promise, but…” 

“They are safer without me knowing,” Clint nodded. He looked up and saw Tony smiling, but he also saw a red mark over Tony’s throat. “Sorry,” he mumbled. Tony smiled, patted his arm and rose.

“It’s okay, Barton,” he said. “It’s okay.”


	38. “Kiss my shoes or I’ll stomp your head in half.” - Clint Barton/Loki, Clint Barton/Bucky Barnes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Kiss my shoes or I'll stomp your head in half!" With frosthawk?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continued from chapter 18

Two guards brought Clint into the _throne room_ of Loki’s hideout on Earth. His hands were cuffed with chains and they were fastened to a chain around his waist. They had attached a chain around his neck and led him like an animal on a leash. One of the guards handed the chain to Loki and with a forceful pull Clint landed on his knees beside the throne. It hurt and he pressed his teeth together to not cry out. 

“Kiss my shoes, pet,” Loki commanded. He looked at Clint intently. But Clint shook his head. 

“No,” he whispered. His mouth was so painfully dry and his lips were cracked. His whole body hurt from the beatings but he wouldn’t do that. 

“Kiss my shoes,” Loki repeated. Clint shook his head again. 

“Last warning, pet,” Loki hissed now. “Kiss my shoes or I’ll stomp your head in half.”

Clint swallowed but this time he looked up, looked at the man on the throne. 

“Do it,” he said. “You’d do me a favor.” 

“This is disgusting, brother!” A voice boomed through the room and Clint swallowed hard. He knew the voice. Thor! Thor was here. He could hear his steps. 

“Oh,” Loki turned to look at Thor. “My dear brother pays me a courtesy visit.” 

“This is not a courtesy visit, brother,” Thor said. “We are here to negotiate.” 

We? Did he say we? Clint swallowed hard but he turned his head, looked at the door and paled. 

“Bucky!” He breathed. But a pull at his chain let him stumble to the floor again. 

“No,” Thor said and out of the corner of his eye Clint could see Thor’s hand on Bucky’s arm. 

“But…” Bucky started but Thor shook his head. 

“There is nothing to negotiate,” Loki snarled. 

“Brother,” Thor said and came closer. 

“I said, there is nothing to negotiate,” Loki repeated. He rose from his throne and made a step in Thor’s direction. “He is mine and I will not give him away.” 

“He is a human being,” Bucky said now. “You can’t…” 

“He is in fact,” Loki snapped and turned to Bucky. “... a human. And I am not. He belongs to me, he was the payment for my help and I will not! Give! Him! Away!” 

“Please,” Bucky whispered. “Please, let him go.” 

“The soldier,” Loki said mockingly and made a step in his direction. “You are the reason for his pain, do you know that?” 

“What?” Bucky asked. 

“He refuses to forget you,” Loki said now to Bucky. “And that’s why he suffers and suffers and suffers. Do you know that?” 

“No,” Bucky shook his head. “You can’t do that!” 

“Bucky,” Thor stopped him from moving. “Give him back, brother,” he said then to Loki again. “I beg you.” 

“You, brother? You beg me?” Loki snorted. “You came to me to ask me for help. And I said to you what I wanted for it. And now that you have what you want you ask me to give up what is rightfully mine?” He spat. “Let me tell you, brother, I will never give him back to you!” 

“I love him and I can’t live without him,” Bucky whispered. “Please!” Clint looked at him, saw the bags he had under his eyes. Bucky suffered and he was the reason. He was just freed from Hydra and now… now that? Bucky needed to move on, to forget him, Clint. It was… necessary. Loki would never let him go and Bucky would never stop to try to get him back. Unless…

“You have to forget about me,” Clint said quietly. All three men stopped and stared at him. Clint locked his eyes with Bucky’s and said. “Forget me, move on.” Bucky shook his head and Clint closed his eyes for a moment. “I don’t love you, Bucky, I never loved you.” His stomach twisted when he saw the pain on his face. He didn’t believe him. He, Clint, had to do something to convince him, he had to do something. He… Clint closed his eyes when he leaned forward to kiss Loki’s shoes. “I love you, Master.”


	39. “I didn’t mean to draw blood, but oh well.” - Clint Barton/Thor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I didn’t mean to draw blood, but oh well.” ThunderHawk please?

They danced around each other for a while now. Clint was attracted to Thor from the very first moment. And who could blame him? Everyone said Steve was the epitome of male perfection but Clint would disagree. One look at Thor and they would change their mind. 

Today Steve had a new idea. One of the pimped up guys should spar with one of the ordinary humans, Steve with Tony, Bucky with Nat and Thor with him, Clint. Only Bruce could stay back, it wasn’t advisable to push him too much. No one wanted Code Green inside of the HQ. 

Thor wore only sweat pants and Clint’s mouth was painfully dry when he went onto the sparring mats with him. 

“Are you okay?” Thor asked when he saw Clint swallow hard. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Everything is fine.” A smile appeared on Thor’s lips when he rotated his arms and stretched them over his head. Clint shrugged out of his shirt, too, and threw it away. He stretched as well and somehow could feel Thor’s eyes on him. 

“Ready?” Clint asked and turned around. Thor raised his head and looked at him. “Were you staring at my ass?” he couldn’t hold back the question. 

“And what if I was?” Thor asked with a smirk. 

“Concentration, please!” Steve called from his mat and Tony shook his head and started to chuckle.

“I will be gentle with you,” Thor said grinning. 

“I bet you will,” Clint snorted. He stretched his neck and clapped his hands. “Let’s go.” 

They started slow, with a few punches and jabs, then added low kicks and knee strikes. Clint was fast and agile and he could outmaneuver Thor’s hard hits most of the time. And then Thor swung at him, Clint ducked, grabbed his arm in the movement, turned and threw Thor over his shoulder. The Asgardian landed with a hard thump and a painful groan on his back. 

Clint helped him up and grinned when Thor rubbed a spot on his back. “You okay?” he asked and Thor nodded. 

The hits went harder, faster, and both men grinned at each other. And once again Clint managed to throw Thor onto the mat. 

“That was a good move,” Thor groaned and touched his head.

“Shit,” Clint said and hunkered down beside him. “I didn’t meant to draw blood, but… well.” He looked at the small cut on his temple. Thor lay on his back and licked his lips when Clint carefully touched the skin around the cut. 

“Are you okay?” Steve asked now.

“Get a room, you two,” Tony called the same moment. 

Clint and Thor shared a glance and then Clint looked up. 

“I… uh… I’ll bring him to the infirmary,” he said. “He… uhm… he needs help.” 

“Sure, Clint,” Nat smirked but Thor took the hand Clint held out for him. 

Bucky and Tony chuckled but Clint flipped them off. Together with Thor he left the gym and they went to the elevator. 

“It was really a good move,” Thor said and leaned against the wall. He smiled at Clint. “I did pull no punches.” 

“I… uh…” he started, “I’m really sorry,” he said then. But Thor shook his head and smiled. 

“You do not have to,” he said. “Not many mortals can outmaneuver me.” He moved and closed the distance between himself and Clint. 

“Really?” Clint croaked, cleared his throat and tried it again, “really?” Thor was close, so close and he could smell him, could feel the warmth from his body and he licked his lips. 

“Indeed,” Thor said, his voice low and rumbling. “I like that.” 

He put a hand on Clint’s cheek and when Clint opened his mouth, Thor leaned down to kiss him. Clint groaned when he felt the heat in his belly and Thor’s hands on his back. 

The elevator stopped and the door opened. 

“Oh god, get a room, you two!” Someone said and both men looked up. Sam stood there, a cup of coffee in his uninjured hand. Clint looked at Thor and shrugged. 

“I have band-aids in my apartment,” he said with a smirk. 

“What are we waiting for?”


	40. “That’s going to bruise.” - Clint Barton & Bucky Barnes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [blowingthingsupisfunny](http://blowingthingsupisfunny.tumblr.com/) requested:  
>  Can I ask you for Clint and Bucky without love interest/just friendship with the prompt “That’s going to bruise.” ? Thank youuuuuu xxx

“Okay, Buck,” Clint said when he entered his living room. “You, me, bar, drinks, now!” 

Bucky, who lounged on his couch, put his book down and raised a brow. 

“What?” He asked. 

“We go out,” Clint said, went in Bucky’s bedroom, rummaged through his wardrobe and came back a minute later and dumped clothes on him. 

“Okay, A, why? B, why me? And C, seriously?” Bucky said, his head cocked. 

“A, because I have a date with a hot girl and she has an equally hot friend. B, why not and C, yes, seriously and I invoke the bro code,” Clint said. “And now, chop chop, we want to meet them in…” he looked at his watch, “Ten minutes ago.” 

“Oh, fashionably late?” Bucky snorted but he rose. Bro code was serious business. He dropped his sweats and stepped out of them. Clint turned, shook his head and looked at the ceiling. 

“You could’ve warned me that you go commando,” he muttered. 

“You could’ve called me and I would’ve been dressed by now,” Bucky shrugged. 

“Okay,” Clint admitted. “I’m waiting outside. Don’t forget your helmet.” Bucky rolled his eyes. He hated to ride pillion with Clint, he always drove like a madman. With a sigh he put on his leather jacket, grabbed the helmet and followed Clint. He found him sitting on his bike in front of the building. 

“Don’t worry, Buck, this is going to be fun.” 

“From your mouth to God’s hearing aids,” Bucky muttered, mounted the bike behind Clint, put on his helmet and sent a quick prayer to heaven.

***

An hour later they sat on the curb outside of the bar. Bucky pressed the ice pack the barkeeper had thrown at him on his eye while Clint spat blood onto the street.

“It went so well,” Bucky growled. “Jenna was nice and surprisingly not the ugly friend who needed a date and she was funny and all that.” 

“I…” Clint started but Bucky stopped him with a glare. He raised both hands and pretended to lock his mouth. 

“Did you know that she knows all the Star Wars movies by heart?” he asked Clint but when he opened his mouth he glared at him again. “Did you know that she wanted to give me her phone number? But then you had to show off.” 

“It wasn’t my fault,” Clint defended himself now, “They challenged me!” 

“You could’ve said no, thanks and put your ass back on your seat!” Bucky grouched. “And my evening wouldn’t’ve ended in the curb with you but with a hot girl in the sack!” 

“I had no idea they were so sore losers,” Clint sighed. He rose and looked at Bucky, winced when he saw his eye. “Aww, man, that’s going to bruise,” he said. 

“No shit, Sherlock?” Bucky said but Clint held his hand out and helped him up. 

“Come on,” Clint said and nodded with his head at the bike, “the next drink is on me.” 

“You think they let us in again? After we were the reason for the fight there?” Bucky asked disbelievingly. 

“No,” Clint shook his head. “But I know a bar down the block,” he said and when he saw Bucky’s brows hit his hairline, he added, “and they don’t have a dart board.” 

“I’m going to order the most expensive vodka they have,” Bucky muttered and Clint patted his shoulder. 

“Fair enough,” he said. “Let’s go.”


	41. “You want some of this cake? C’moooon, beg for it!” - Clint Barton/Tony Stark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You want some of this cake? C’moooon, beg for it!” IronHawk please?

Tony was stressed. He was really, really stressed. This morning Pepper had called, he should come to SI for an emergency. Unfortunately the emergency was just hoax to get him into a board meeting. At least she said there was cake for him when he was back at HQ. 

But when he was back Steve dragged him in one of his spontaneous trainings sessions, then Sam needed help with his wings, Natasha had accidentally totalled his Shelby Cobra and then May Parker had called, Peter got detention again and she wanted him to talk to him. When he was back again Vision caught him and asked him for advice about his relationship with Wanda. 

It was late when he finally opened the fridge to get his cake… and found it empty. 

“What the fuck!” He cursed and threw his hands in the air in frustration. “FRIDAY, where’s my cake?” 

“Agent Barton took it and went with it to the sun deck,” the AI said. 

“Son of a…” he muttered, undid his tie, threw it onto one of the armchairs together with his jacket and went to the deck. But as soon as he left the living room and stepped out he stopped dead in his tracks. Clint sat buck ass naked in the whirlpool and ate his cake. His cake. 

“Hey, Tony,” Clint grinned and waved with the cake fork in his hand. 

“That’s my cake,” Tony blurted. Clint cocked his head, looked at the plate in his hand and then with a devilish smirk at Tony. 

“You mean this cake? This extremely tasty peanut butter caramel buttercream cake?” he asked and took a big forkful of it in his mouth. 

“That’s my cake! Pepper bought it for me!” Tony said and went over to the whirlpool. It was big enough for ten people and Clint sat in the middle, out of Tony’s reach and grinned at him. 

“You want some of it?” Clint asked now and winked at Tony. 

“Of course I want some! It’s my cake!” Tony tried to be angry but Clint’s nakedness distracted him in a way he never expected. He liked the archer but… but like that? 

“C’mooon,” Clint purred, “Beg for it.” He started to grin again and Tony licked his lips. 

“I don’t beg! I can buy another cake,” Tony said but he knew that he only wanted this cake. 

“You could do that,” Clint nodded. “Or… you come in and get some.” 

Tony deliberated for a long moment while Clint just looked at him with a sexy smirk on his lips and ate another forkful of cake. Slowly he licked the fork clean and then his lips and Tony’s pants went tight. 

“C’mooon,” Clint sing-songed this time. “Come in.” 

“Fuck it,” Tony grumbled and started to unbutton his shirt, “That’s my damn cake and if I have to sit in a damn whirlpool to get it…” Clint chuckled. Tony shrugged out of his shoes and socks, his pants and boxers and climbed into the whirlpool. 

Clint grinned when Tony slid over to him and held the fork out for him. “Or are you afraid of a few gay germs?” 

Tony scrutinized him for a long moment and now he started to grin. “Not in the slightest.” He leaned over, put both his hands on Clint’s cheeks and pulled him in a kiss. It was spontaneous but he really wanted to kiss Clint right now. 

“Aww, cake, no,” Clint said when they broke and he realized the cake just sunk in the whirlpool, came apart and stuck to their skins. Tony licked his lips and looked at Clint with a glint in his eyes. 

“Looks like we need a shower,” he said and Clint started to grin again. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Looks like it.” 

“Let’s go,” Tony said and rose. “And FRIDAY can order some cake for later.” 

“Of course, sir.”


	42. “Guess what? SURPRISE ICE BUCKET CHALLENGE!” - Clint Barton/Scott Lang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uhm... how about the "Surprise Ice Bucket challenge" with Scott Lang? They are so cute together!

No one would say Scott was addicted to YouTube videos. Because… well… he wasn’t. No, of course he wasn’t. Just because he spent almost all his free time in front of his laptop watching YouTube videos didn’t mean he was addicted, right? 

Clint was of other opinion. He always complained when Scott spent hours at a time on his laptop. And his newest passion were Ice Bucket Challenge videos. He watched them in every spare minute. To say that Clint was pissed was the understatement of the year. 

“I have no idea what I can do?” he said one evening to Natasha. She sat on a recamier, put her book down and raised a brow. 

“Really?” She asked. She reached for her cup of tea and took a sip. 

“Yeah, I mean…” he started but Natasha interrupted him with a sigh. 

“Clinton Francis Barton, you’re an Agent of Shield and an Avenger. Do you really not know what to do?” She asked. 

“No, I… you mean…” he asked and his eyes widened. 

“Yes, I mean,” she nodded and Clint started to grin evilly. 

He found Scott in the communal living room, and of course he had his laptop on his knees, watched and then he laughed his ass off. 

“Hey, Clint!” He called when he realized that he was here. “Come on, look at this,” he said and pointed at the screen. 

“One moment,” Clint smiled, crossed the living room to go to the kitchen. He took a bucket, filled it with water, went to the fridge and started to throw ice in it. 

“Clint, come on, you have to see this!” Scott called from the living room and he could hear him laugh only a moment later. 

“On my way,” Clint called back, looked out of the door but Scott didn’t look in his direction. He took the bucket and went over to him. 

“Here, look at…” Scott said, but he couldn’t finish because Clint just dumped the ice cold water over him. 

“Guess what! Surprise ice bucket challenge!” Clint called and threw the bucket aside. 

“What the fuck!” Scott spluttered. He jumped up from his seat on the couch and his laptop fell onto the floor. He was dripping wet and glared at Clint angrily. “Are you completely out of your mind?” 

“No,” Clint said. “And when you have time for me you can come visit me in my apartment.” He didn’t wait for Scott, he just left the communal living room and took the elevator. 

An hour later someone knocked at his door. Clint opened and saw Scott leaning against the door jamb. 

“Hey,” he said. Clint raised a brow. “Hey,” he, too, said. 

“I… uh… I guess I owe you an apology.” Clint didn’t say a word. “I… uhm… I’m sorry, okay?” 

Clint opened the door and let him in. He had changed his clothes. 

“Uhm, my laptop is… uhm… dead,” Scott said and when Clint raised a brow, he added, “But that’s okay. That’s okay.” 

“I’m sorry for your laptop,” Clint scratched the back of his neck. 

“No, that’s okay,” Scott said. “I deserved that. I was a terrible boyfriend in the last few months.” 

“Yeah,” Clint nodded. “You’re right.” 

“How can I make up to you?” Scott asked and he looked at Clint under his lashes and he bit his lip suggestively. Clint took a deep breath, but then he smiled and dragged him into the living room.

“Oh, don’t worry, I have an idea or two.”


	43. “Tickle-tickle-tickle! Kitchy kitchy koo!” - Clint Barton/Steve Rogers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Tickle-tickle-tickle! Kitchy kitchy koo!” AmeriHawk? It’s such a Steve move :D

“Give it back,” Steve threatened and folded his arms over his chest. Clint grinned broadly and shook his head. 

“Nope,” he said and jumped over the couch. 

“Clint,” Steve repeated. 

“No-oh,” Clint shook his head again. 

“That’s not funny,” Steve drummed with his fingers on his elbow. 

“Then come and get it,” Clint said provokingly. Steve made a step in his direction and Clint moved around the couch so it was still between them. 

“Clint, I have to leave,” Steve said impatiently. He moved to the other side and Clint went around, too, still keeping the couch between them. 

“Then you better come and get me,” he grinned, reached in his jeans pocket to show Steve the keys to his bike. “Here, you can have them, you only have to get them.” 

“It’s not funny!” Steve grouched. 

Clint still grinned and jingled with the keys. But when Steve made a step in his direction he put it back in his jeans. 

“I have to go to SHIELD!” Steve huffed and Clint turned to go back to the door. 

“Oh, then you better hurry to get your keys,” he smirked. 

“Dammit,” Steve cursed and jumped over the couch and with a yelp Clint started to run. “Stop, Clint!” he called and Clint slammed the door to the bedroom shut behind himself. 

Steve followed him and ran around the bed to get Clint but he jumped over the bed… or at least he tried it. Steve’s super soldier reflexes were fast and he could grab Clint’s ankle. He fell onto the bed face first and Steve was on him in an instant. 

“Give me my keys,” he demanded and Clint shook his head. 

“Nope,” he grinned and turned onto his back. Steve leaned over him and he was so close, so, so close. “They are mine now.” 

Steve frowned and then a smirk appeared on his face, too. He straddled Clint, his grin broadened and he brought his hands down to Clint’s side. “Tickle-tickle-tickle! Kitchy kitchy koo!” He started to tickle Clint with an evil grin on his face. He knew all the points where he was extremely ticklish and Clint writhed on the bed, laughed and begged him to stop.

“Please… hahahaha… sto-ho-ho-hop,” he giggled. 

“Give me my keys?” Steve asked and Clint shook his head again. 

“No-ho-ho-ho, you ha-ha-ha-ha-ve to stay,” Clint wriggled on the mattress. “O-ho-hor have to pa-ha-hay!” 

Steve stopped for a moment and cocked his head. “Pay? What do you want?” 

“A kiss,” Clint said and smiled. 

“And then I get my keys?” Steve asked and Clint shrugged. 

“We’ll see. If it was a good kiss,” he said. Steve raised a brow, but he leaned down, touched Clint’s lips with his, touched his tongue when he opened his mouth. He had no idea how long they kissed but he was breathless, when they parted. 

“How was that?” he asked and Clint shrugged again. 

“Not bad, but you can do better,” he grinned. Steve grinned as well, leaned down and kissed him again, stroked Clint’s arms and chest, got touched from him and he felt something stir in his lower regions and his pants became tight.

“That was better,” Clint said. Steve sighed because now he didn’t want to leave anymore. He looked at the alarm clock beside the bed and pursed his lips. 

“I guess I still have a few minutes,” he said then. And Clint’s grin broadened. 

“Awesome!”


	44. “Whaaaat? Is this yours? You can’t have it back, it’s mine now!” - Clint Barton/Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [denna5](https://denna5.tumblr.com/) requested:  
>  If you're still taking prompts, “Whaaaat? Is this yours? You can’t have it back, it’s mine now!” Amerihawk or Ameriwinterhawk

Steve and Bucky were friends since they were four years old. They met in kindergarten and were inseparable since then. They went to school together, they started to date and they went to the army together. Everyone knew they were a couple but no one said a word, their comrades liked them and they didn’t rat them out. When they left the army after two tours in Afghanistan and Iraq they bought a bar together. They married and adopted an orphaned boy, Peter, together. 

And they shared everything. Their relationship was different, they loved each other dearly, no doubt, but sometimes they just wanted to spice up their sex life. Luckily they owned a bar and it wasn’t difficult to meet people. 

One of the men they both liked and they wanted to include was one of their relief waiters, Clint. He was a few years younger and had an archery scholarship but he worked here to get some extra money for college. He was cute and he seemed to like the two of them, too. But when one of them flirted with them he always rejected them. They knew that Clint liked guys, too, he just didn’t seem to want to get involved with them.   
Until… 

It was Bucky’s birthday and they had closed the bar for public, had invited all their friends and co-workers, buddies from their days in the army and celebrated. Clint was relaxed, he didn’t have to work and so he could drink a beer or two. Neither Bucky nor Steve, though, had an idea what a lightweight Clint was. Three beers and two whiskeys later he was already strongly intoxicated, grinned a lot and held himself upright on the bar. Bucky, who saw him, smirked and went to him. 

“Hey, Barton,” he smiled and Clint grinned broadly at him.

“Heeeey, bossmaaaaan,” he slurred and tried to pat Bucky’s shoulder. “How’ya doin’?” 

“I guess you’ve had enough,” Bucky said, reached around Clint, took the glass with whiskey he saw there and emptied in one big gulp. “Come with me,” he said. Clint looked confused at the empty glass, but when Bucky hoisted him up, he grinned again. 

“Where’we goin’?” he asked and Bucky pointed at the door to their apartment above the bar. 

“You need to lie down,” he said. “Peter’s not in town, you can sleep in his room.” 

“Peter’s’a’good boy,” Clint slurred and giggled. 

“Yeah, he is,” Bucky confirmed. He unlocked the door and dragged Clint up the stairs. The archer clung to him like a leech and it seemed as if he sniffed. 

“You’smell’s’good,” he mumbled. “Pity you’re married.” Bucky looked at him for a very long moment but then he opened the door to Peter’s room - it was as messy as usual - and tried to help Clint to the bed. But he tripped over some of Peter’s stuff and together they fell onto the bed, Clint on his back an Bucky on top of him. Clint blinked a few times and then he just reached up, put his hand around Bucky’s neck and kissed him. 

Bucky was taken aback, he had never expected it but after a moment he kissed him back. It was messy and wet and when they heard the door they broke the kiss. It was Steve who stood in the doorway, smirking knowingly. 

“Hey, I just wanted to see if you need help,” he said. Clint tried to sit up but it wasn’t easy with Bucky still on top of him. 

“Nah,” Clint answered slurring instead of Bucky. “‘Vrything’s’fine.” Steve’s smirk broadened. 

“What do you think, can I get my husband back? His guests are waiting for him,” he said and Clint grabbed Bucky’s arm. 

“Whaaaat?” He asked and looked at Bucky. “Is this yours?” He glared at Steve threatening. “You can’t’ve it back, ‘s’mine now.” 

Steve and Bucky shared a glance. Who would’ve known that Clint just needed a bit of alcohol to loosen him up. 

“Okay,” he said “What do you think about a nap and tomorrow we talk?” He suggested. Clint nodded slowly. 

“Nap’s’good,” he mumbled, let go of Bucky and just dropped back. Bucky removed his shoes, put a blanket over him and went over to Steve. 

“What do you think?” Bucky asked and looked at the sleeping man in their son’s bed. 

“I guess this time he’ll agree,” Steve said. He wrapped his arm around Bucky’s waist, leaned in and kissed him. “Happy birthday, baby,” he said then. 

Bucky grinned. “Love you, too.”


	45. “I’ll stop singing when hell freezes over!” - Clint Barton/Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’ll stop singing when hell freezes over!” - with Sam/Clint

Clint was in the gym when FRIDAY called him. 

“Sir, you should come to the communal living room. It’s urgent,” the AI said. Clint, who just lifted weights, put them down and grabbed his towel to wipe his face. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked and reached for his water bottle to take a sip while walking out of the gym. 

“It’s about the Agents Barnes and Wilson,” the AI told him. He met Steve in front of the elevator. 

“You too?” he asked and Steve nodded. 

“Yes,” he said. “Something about Bucky and Sam apparently. FRIDAY was a little vague.” 

They entered the cabin and rode up to the communal area of the new Avengers HQ. but as soon as the doors opened they could hear grunts of pain and the sounds of two men fighting. Steve and Clint shared a glance and jogged in, saw Sam and Bucky roll over the floor and hitting each other. Steve went in and grabbed Bucky while Clint pulled Sam back.

“Fuck you, asshat! I’ll stop singing when hell freezes over!” Sam yelled at Bucky and tried to get out of Clint’s grip. 

“You call that singing?” Bucky snorted derogatively. “Where I come from we call that assault and battery!” He also struggled against Steve’s hold.

“You fucking asshole!” Sam just yelled back and tried to make a step in Bucky’s direction to hit him again. 

“Hey!” Steve bellowed. Clint grabbed Sam’s arm tighter and pulled him back again. “What’s going on here?” he asked.

“He’s constantly yowling,” Bucky hissed. 

“He’s an asshole!” Sam snapped the same moment. 

“Stop it!” Steve said in his Captain America voice, the one where everyone listened to him automatically. “And now one of you tells me what happened.” 

Both men started to talk at the same moment. 

“I said one of you!” Steve demanded. He looked from Bucky to Sam and back. “Well?” 

“Since he came in he’s singing,” Bucky said with air quotes. “It’s awful. If Barton’s dog was here he would join in.” 

“Just because you don’t know good music…” 

“Enough!” Steve glared at the two of them. “I know that you two don’t get along but can’t you just try to act like grown ups?” 

Both men started to yell again and no one understood what they said. 

“I guess you just take yours and I take mine and we separate them,” Clint suggested. Sam and Bucky started to sputter outraged. Steve rolled his eyes exasperated, nodded and dragged Bucky out of the room. And Clint did the same with Sam. They took separate elevator cars and when they arrived in their apartment Clint closed the door and let go of Sam’s arm. 

“Wanna talk about it?” he asked. Sam sighed and flopped down on the couch. 

“Barnes’s an ass!” he snapped. Clint went to him and put his arm around his shoulder. 

“Forget him,” Clint said. “I like it when you sing.” 

“You don’t have to…” Sam started but Clint interrupted him with a kiss. 

“Forget him. You have a beautiful voice and I love it when you sing,” he repeated. And then he kissed him again.


	46. “Get in the locker, shorty!” (1/2) - Clint Barton/Bruce Banner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Get in the locker, shorty!” Hulkeye, HS setting?

Bruce was new in this school. And he hated it. 

The teachers weren’t bad and the science classes were okay. They weren’t advanced enough for his needs but okay. But his classmates were… they were the worst. Of course he landed in a foster family in one of the worst parts of the city, that was just his bad luck. Every day he saw someone getting beaten up, getting bullied and mobbed or robbed. But nevertheless, he went there every day. Though, he tried to avoid contact with the other kids as far as possible. 

This morning his foster mom - she was really nice - brought him to school. She worked three days a week and then she always drove him to school so he didn’t have to take the bus. She gave him his breaktime sandwich and waved when she drove away. Bruce looked at the box in his hand, put it in his rucksack and sighed. Her sandwiches weren’t tasty but she couldn’t afford the money for him to buy lunch in the cafeteria. At least she tried and the sandwiches were edible. 

“Get out of the way,” a boy snarled and bumped into him deliberately. It was enough space around him, yet, he just bodychecked him and Bruce almost tumbled in one of the teacher’s cars. He and his friends didn’t even look back, they just kept walking.

“Hey! Careful!” He called after him and the boy stopped, turned around and looked at him, his head cocked. 

“What was that, shorty?” The older boys stopped and turned around. Bruce stopped, too, and licked his lips. 

“I said be careful,” he said and straightened himself. The boys looked at each other and moments later he found himself on the ground, getting kicked in the stomach and wrapped his arms around his head to protect it. It hurt like hell. 

“Give me your money,” one of them snapped. It was the one boy who bumped into him. 

“I don’t have money,” Bruce pressed through his teeth. Another boy grabbed his rucksack, emptied it and let all his books fall onto the ground. The box with his sandwich went open and it fell out and with a laugh the boy stepped on it. 

“His momma made him lunch,” he giggled. But the first boy wasn’t satisfied, quite the contrary. He nodded at his companions and they grabbed Bruce’s arms and dragged him into the building. One of them opened a locker and the boy who bumped into him grinned. 

“Get in the locker, shorty,” he said and the boys forced him into the small gap. Bruce panted and struggled but they were five and he was alone and smaller than them. And then the door closed behind him. He was trapped and could barely breathe. And it was dark and so tight and he wanted to scream but couldn’t. Just when he thought he would die the door went open and Bruce fell out. 

“Are you okay?” A boy asked. Bruce stared at him and sucked air into his lungs. “Hey, are you okay?” Bruce nodded and the boy hunkered down beside him. He helped him to sit up. “I’m sorry,” he said after a moment. 

“Wha-what for?” Bruce asked. The boy wasn’t one of his attackers and he could even see that he had brought his rucksack. 

“My brother, Barney,” the boy said. “He’s an asshole. I saw what he and his minions did.” Bruce scrutinized him, he was sure the boy was in his advanced maths class. “I’m Clint.” 

“Bruce,” he wheezed.

“If you want to talk to Mr. Coulson,” - the headmaster - “I tell him that I’ve seen what they did to you,” Clint said. 

“It’s okay,” Bruce said. “Nothing will happen.” Clint sighed and nodded. 

“I know,” he said. “Unfortunately.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Your… uhm… your sandwich is a loss I’m afraid. But if you want to I buy you lunch.” 

“You want to invite me?” Bruce asked. Clint blushed and nodded. 

“Yeah, the least I could do,” and then, after a long moment, he added, “and you seem nice.” 

Bruce scrutinized him and when Clint blushed even more he said, “It’s a date.”


	47. “Get in the locker, shorty!” (2/2) - Clint Barton/Tony Stark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [things-i-can-never-have](http://things-i-can-never-have.tumblr.com/) requested:  
>  "Get in the locker shorty" with Ironhawk please. Love your work!

“Why do I have to go?” Clint whined and looked at his foster mother. 

“Because school attendance is compulsory,” she said and sighed. She gestured at the door of the bus. 

“But it’s awful and the other kids hate me,” Clint said. It was his first year in high-school and he really hated it.

“They don’t hate you, they just have to get to know you and then you will find friends,” she said. “And now, chop chop.” 

Clint looked at her for a very long moment but then the bus driver honked and gestured for him to move on. He nodded and climbed into the bus, looked for a seat and sat down. 

Twenty minutes, a bunch of insults and a slap on his head later he got out, took his old, tattered rucksack and went into the building. But he didn’t go very far. 

They were here, waited for him. Three boys, seniors, stood in the corridor, their arms folded and grinned maliciously. And the worst was, one of them was his brother, Barney. He lived with another foster family at the moment. 

“Hey, Shorty,” one of them, Laurence but his friends called him Loki, said with a grin. He always called him Shorty because he was more than a head taller than Clint. He looked around and licked his lips. The other kids just hurried to their classrooms, talked and ignored them. Ronan, Barney’s other friend, came in his direction, walked around him and shoved him over to his brother. 

“What do you want,” he asked and Loki started to laugh. 

“What do you want,” Ronan imitated him mockingly and shoved him again. Clint stumbled and Barney made a step in his direction. 

“Tell me, brother,” he said, “is it true what we’ve heard?” 

“How the hell should I know what you’ve heard?” Clint spat, grabbed his rucksack tighter and glared at Barney. 

“Did you canoodle with Stark?” he asked. Clint blushed and Barney shoved him so that he fell backwards on his ass. “You fucking faggot!” 

“That’s none of your fucking business!” Clint snarled. But Barney, Loki and Ronan shared a glance and then they grabbed his arms and dragged him away, over to the lockers. 

“Hehehe,” Loki laughed and grinned at Clint. “Get in the locker, Shorty.” 

“No!” Clint yelped and struggled but they were bigger and stronger and no one seemed to notice. Or maybe they noticed but just didn’t care. Ronan opened Clint’s locker - he just picked the lock - but just when they wanted to shove him in, they heard a voice from behind. 

“Hey, asshole!” Clint knew the voice. Tony!

“What do you want, Stark?” Barney asked. 

“Let go of him,” Tony said calmly. 

“Hmm,” Barney hummed and cocked his head, “let me think about it… no!” 

“Let go of him or you’ll regret it,” Tony said. Clint still couldn’t see him, the two guys still held his arms. 

“Who will stop us, Stark? You?” Loki asked now but he let go of Clint’s arm and he could turn around. Tony stood there, shrugged and nodded. 

“Yeah, why not?” He said and then someone else came to stand beside him. It was Steve Rogers, captain of the school’s football team. 

“And me, too,” he said. Another boy came. Bruce Banner, Tony’s science bro. 

“Yeah, and me,” Bruce said. A girl came to stand beside them and Clint couldn’t hold back a grin. It was Natasha, the only girl who had ever talked to him here. 

“Me too,” she said. And then Loki paled because the guy who came to stand with the others was his adoptive brother. 

“Let go of him,” Thor said now. And now they did. Clint went over to Tony and Steve patted his shoulder. 

“If one of you ever touch him again,” Natasha said.

“Then you’ll have a brush with us,” Tony finished her sentence. 

“Understood?” Thor snarled and the three boys nodded frantically, grabbed their stuff and hurried away. Tony smiled, came over and took Clint’s hand. 

“Come on,” he said, “let’s go. We have maths now.” 

“Tony?” Clint stopped and when the other boy looked at him, he smiled. “Thank you.” 

Tony nodded, smiled and squeezed his hand. “Come on, let’s go.”


	48. “Annoying? Me? Annoying?” - Clint Barton/Pietro Maximoff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Annoying? Me? Annoying?" with Pietro please!! (i love your blog btw, your content is the best I immediatly stop what I'm doing when I get a notification)

Clint lay on his couch, played The Witcher 3 when Pietro came home, slammed the door shut behind him and stormed in the bedroom. He slammed that door shut, too. A moment later Clint could hear something shatter at the wall. 

With a sigh he saved his game, put the controller on the table and went to the bedroom.

“Pietro?” He knocked and called for the speedster. The next thing shattered on the door. “Baby, can you open the door please?” It was quiet for a very long moment but then he heard his voice.

“Come in,” he said. Clint opened the door and looked around. He saw the bedside lamp destroyed in front of the door and a flower pot a few inches left. The dieffenbachia lay on the carpet in a pile of earth. 

Pietro lay on the bed, his feet with his trainers still on, on the bed cover and he stared at the ceiling. He had cried a bit and Clint went to him and sat down. 

“Hey,” he said quietly. When Pietro didn’t say a word he reached out and stroked his forehead. “What’s wrong, babe?” 

“Am I annoying?” Pietro asked after a long moment. Clint’s eyes went wide. 

“Who said that?” Clint asked instead of an answer. Pietro turned his head to look at him. He squinted his eyes and propped himself up on his elbow. 

“You didn’t answer my question,” he said. Clint took a deep breath. 

“You’re not annoying,” he said then. “Just…” 

“What?” Pietro interrupted him and wanted to jump up but Clint held him on the bed. “You, too, think I’m annoying? Me? Annoying?” 

“I did not say that,” Clint said. “You’re just not so easy to understand sometimes.” 

This time Pietro jumped up and started to pace in the bedroom. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

“It means,” Clint stopped for a second to search for the right word, “It means you’re not flat, plane, two dimensional, do you know what I mean?” 

“Not really,” Pietro didn’t sound angry anymore, but confused. He sat down on the bed again.

“It means, you’re through so much shit in your life that most people can’t grasp all your… layers, you know.” 

“Layers? You’re confusing, old man,” Pietro muttered. 

“What I want to say is that you’re not annoying, you’re a wonderful human being and I still want to know who said that you’re annoying,” Clint said. Pietro lay down on the bed and stared at the ceiling again.

“Remember when Cap said that I can’t rely only on my speed?” He asked and Clint nodded.

“Sure,” he said. “There’s always the chance it vanishes for one reason or the other. Drugs maybe and…” 

“I know, Cap told me in great detail,” Pietro huffed. “He suggested I should attend SHIELD basic training. And that’s where I went today,” he said. 

“And one of the newbies said you’re annoying?” Clint asked. Pietro huffed again. 

“No, it was… it was one of the teachers,” he said after a long moment. “Because… because I knew more about the Battle of Sokovia than he did and… and the probies asked a lot of questions and he said… he said I was disruptive and annoying.” 

“Who was it?” Clint asked calmly. 

“I don’t…” Pietro started but Clint interrupted him.

“Tell me his name,” he demanded. Pietro sat up and looked at him. 

“You’re not going to hurt him, are you?” He asked and Clint furrowed his brows. 

“Mere minutes ago you’ve been really pissed off and now you’re worried?” 

“I just…” he started but when Clint cocked his head he said, “It was Torres. Gregor Torres.” 

Clint nodded slowly. 

“You’re not going to do something dumb, are you?” Pietro asked. 

“What? Me? No,” he said. But he would have to have a talk with him. Maybe the next time he needed help with his aim. 

“Clint…” Pietro said but Clint smiled and leaned over and kissed him.

“Forget him,” he said. “He’s an idiot and I love you just the way you are.” 

“You do?” Pietro asked and Clint kissed him again. “And I love you, old man.”


	49. Bonus 1 - Clint Barton/Bucky Barnes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi, can you please write a sequel to the most recent one, with someone comforting Clint and yelling at Steve for his behavior? I think we all need a little happiness after that angst... ouch (but in a 10000% good way) I love your writing so much

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continued from Chapter 30

No one was around when Bucky came back from his super secret mission. He had had no contact to the rest of the team for the last few weeks and he missed Clint so badly. But when he entered their apartment something was wrong. Clint wasn’t here, sure, maybe they were on their own mission, but… it looked as if someone had searched something, had thrown everything around and left. 

Bucky furrowed his brows. Clint was very tidy - much to everyone’s surprise - and he wouldn’t leave all theirs stuff on the floor. 

“FRIDAY,” he addressed Tony’s new AI, “where’s Clint? And where’s the rest of the team?” 

“Captain Rogers and Dr. Banner are in the hospital to visit Agent Romanov, Mr. Stark is over at SHIELD to talk to Director Coulson and Agent Barton is still in arrest,” she said. 

“He what? He’s in arrest? Why’s he in arrest? And why’s Nat in the hospital?” Bucky asked. 

The AI seemed to deliberate for a moment but then it said, “I’m afraid I’m not allowed to tell you.” 

“What happened here?” Bucky wanted to know.

“I’m afraid I’m not allowed to tell you,” FRIDAY repeated. 

“Can you at least tell me where Clint is? Here or over at SHIELD?” 

“He’s here in the basement until Director Coulson decides what happens to him,” FRIDAY said. Bucky nodded, turned on his heel and went to the elevator. With a retina scan the door to the arrest cells opened and he slapped his hand over his mouth. In the last one lay Clint on the floor. He had his arms wrapped around his knees and just lay there, staring into space. Bucky could see bruises and cuts on his arms and his face. Apparently nobody had tended to them. 

“Clint?” He hunkered down in front of the bars but it seemed is if he couldn’t hear him. “Clint,” he said again. A nasty bruise was over his throat as if someone had choked him. “Clint, baby, can you hear me?” 

“Go ‘way,” he rasped after a long moment. He sighed relieved. He could hear him and he could speak, even if it sounded painful. 

“Here you are,” a voice behind him said suddenly and Bucky turned around. Steve stood behind him, a weird expression on his face. “FRIDAY called and said you’re here, asking questions about him.” The way he said the last word sounded as if he talked about something disgusting.

“What happened, Steve?” Bucky wanted to know. Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“He killed Maria and almost killed Nat,” he said. Bucky paled. “She’s in IC and we don’t know if she wakes up again.” 

Disbelievingly Bucky turned around to look at Clint, but the man had just closed his eyes, tears running over his face. “You tell me everything that happened,” he said and Steve nodded. And then he did. 

When he finished five minutes later Bucky blinked at him. He looked at Clint and back at Steve and then he just punched him. Steve stumbled backwards, holding his bleeding nose. “Are you out of your fucking mind?” He yelled but Bucky was on him in an instant. 

“Am I… you fucking idiot! Do you have the slightest idea what it means to be mind controlled? Do you? Huh? No, you, Mr. Righteous, just locked him up, you asshat beat him and choked him!” 

“Bucky,” Steve started but Bucky interrupted him. 

“Shut the fuck up and listen! Can you imagine how it is to be locked in your own head, to see your body do things you would never ever do but you just can’t interfere? Can you imagine to see your own hands killing your friends without being able to help them? Can you? No, you just can lock people up and… goddammit… beat them instead of even trying to help them! You’re such a self righteous asshole!!” He punched a hole in the wall beside Steve’s head. “What if it had been me? Would you locked me up, too?” 

“Bucky…” Steve started again but Bucky only glared at him. 

“I swear to god, if you open your trap one more time you’ll lose all your teeth!” 

Steve closed his mouth and looked like a beaten dog right now and that made him even angrier at him. “Natasha is like a sister to Clint! Do you think he would’ve hurt her if Loki, that bastard, hadn’t forced him? No, he wouldn’t! Do you really think I would’ve killed Howard and Maria if I had a chance to prevent it? No, I wouldn’t. You didn’t even have the decency to treat his injuries! And I considered you my friend,” he made a step back and shook his head. 

Steve opened his mouth but after a glance at Bucky he shut it again. 

“You open that cell! Now!” Steve looked at him for a long moment, but then he went over and pressed his hand on the scanner and the bars moved aside. Bucky glared at him, went into the cell and hunkered down beside Clint. He helped him sit up and when Clint wrapped his arms around him and sobbed in his chest, he stroked his back. “Come on, babe, let’s get you out of here, let’s get you some help.”


	50. Bonus 2 - Clint Barton/Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanov/Steve Rogers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something along the line "Do you have a death wish" would be awesome. Pairing? I love IronHawk and BirdBros :D Thank you!

Sam stumbled in the living room, a sports drink in his hand and glaring at Steve who came a few minutes earlier. He had made the mistake to go jogging with him again. He stopped, when he saw Clint, sitting on the couch and watching Natasha watching TV. It was weird because Nat yelled at the TV almost constantly.

“Goddammit, move your lazy ass… my grandma is faster than you and she’s dead… I can sit faster than you run… what the fuck is that? Is he out of his mind?... What are you doing, for crying out loud… oh come on, you can’t just pass to that… goddammit! Is that referee blind? That was never offside!... Fuck!! Fuck!!... come on, yeah, yeah, yeah… YAaaaahhh!!!” She jumped up, both hands in the air and grinned like a madman. 

Steve sat on the couch between Nat and Clint, his feet on the table. He had showered already and grinned at Sam who shuffled to the armchair and flopped down, too. He was quiet for a long moment while Natasha still yelled at the TV. 

“I had no idea that you’re into soccer,” he said casually and took a sip from his drink. It became quiet in the room aside from the sounds from the TV. Clint’s eyes were wide as saucers and he shook his head and Steve moved his finger in front of his throat as if he wanted to cut it. 

“What?” Natasha asked slowly and Sam frowned. 

“You know… soccer…” he said and gestured at the TV. Clint’s head moved more frantically and Steve waved with both hands. “I thought you’re more a hockey fan.” 

“Soccer?” Nat said way too calm and Sam furrowed his brows when he saw Clint's and Steve’s reaction. 

“Yeah… uhm…” he said, “the game.” He pointed at the TV again. Natasha scrutinized him for a long moment before she took a breath. 

“That’s football,” she said and Sam cocked his head. 

“I’m pretty sure it’s called soccer,” he said. Clint facepalmed and Steve leaned back with a pained sound. 

“Okay,” Natasha said. “Because you’re new here, this,” she pointed at the TV, “is football. Everywhere in the world it’s called football. Got it?” 

“But… I know football, I played football and…” Sam started but Natasha interrupted him. 

“No, no, no,” she said and smiled that scary smile she always smiled, “that’s not football.” She pointed at the TV, “This is football because they use a ball and they play it with their feet. The game you played… they don’t use a ball but a weird egg-shaped leather thingy and they don’t even use their feet to play it, they carry it around in their hands. It should be called ‘Weird-egg-shaped-leather-thingy-carry-around-game’. This on the other hand... Ball and played with feet,” she made a go-on gesture with her hand, “football.” 

“O-kay,” Sam said slowly but before he could say more Clint was on him, grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the room. 

“See you later, Nat,” he called over his shoulder. “Have fun and I hope ManU wins!” 

“Man United!” She called after him and Clint waved but closed the door as fast as possible. “The fuck!” he said as soon as they were outside. “Do you have a death wish?” 

“What? It was just…” 

“Do not ever call that game soccer again,” he said. “Nat’s a little… obsessed and she doesn’t like it when someone calls it soccer.” 

“But…” Sam started but Clint interrupted him. 

“Don’t try to argue with her about it,” he smirked. “And I mean it, don’t try to argue with her about it. She’s going to wipe the floor with your ass… and I like to do different things with it.” 

“Yeah?” Sam asked and smiled. “Like what?” 

“Come with me to the shower and I’ll show you,” Clint said and waggled his brows. 

“I like the way you think.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, another prompt list finished (+ 2 bonus chapters).:D Thanks for reading, for the kudos, for the comments and... if you want me to write a Clint Barton centric ficlet, come to my [tumblr ](https://clintbartonruinedmylife.tumblr.com/) and prompt me. There are prompt lists or you can just ask. :D

**Author's Note:**

> [asamandra on tumblr](http://asamandra.tumblr.com/)   
>  [clintbartonruinedmylife on tumblr](https://clintbartonruinedmylife.tumblr.com/)


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